


Pointed

by Standbackufools



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood and Torture, F/F, Minor Character Death, Psychological Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-14
Updated: 2014-05-27
Packaged: 2018-01-15 17:13:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 19
Words: 91,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1312777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Standbackufools/pseuds/Standbackufools
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vampires and werewolves own the night, feeding off humans without recourse. As a Hunter, Emma Swan is dedicated to their destruction for her own reasons. But after the son she thought dead appears at her door sporting fangs and walking in daylight, everything she thought she knew is thrown asunder. Especially in Storybrooke, Maine, governed by a mayor who is more than she seems.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Moon is Out and there's a Chill Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> My undying thanks to my readers, who have compelled me to finally get this story posted here. This story has been re-edited before posting.
> 
> All chapters initially Beta-ed by the incredibly wonderful Luthorly/killer-elephants. All remaining errors are my own, to my extreme annoyance.
> 
> Chapter Titles are taken from the lyrics of the song 'Do it With me Now,' from the Xena episode "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun."
> 
> I do not own Once Upon a Time or its characters. The universe in which this story is set, however, is all mine.

**Chapter I**

 

In her dream, she was running.  
  
She knew it was a dream, knew for a fact that the beast who hunted her was dead- long dead, and would never be hurting her again. She'd made sure of it herself, with a well-placed bullet resulting in a splash of red and a puddle on the ground. She knew this; she even knew how the dream would end, as it always did. She was still powerless to stop it. It would unfold as it always did, end where it always did, and she would wake, panting and sweating and crying and possibly screaming, alone in her apartment, and she would get no further sleep that night. But only after it ended.  
  
She was always running. Through dark, twisting alleys and dim-lit streets, hearing nothing but the haggard sounds of her own frantic panting and her shoes crunching over shards of broken bottles. The neon of the Chinese take-away colored the night a dull red; it flickered intermittently, broken. Darkness and redness bled into one another, causing her eyes to play tricks on her as she ran, wobbling, to the door of the restaurant. She tried the handle, banged on the door, but no one came to save her. A patch of the dark blurred slightly differently than the rest, and a quiet whoosh of movement passed, too fast to be seen. Her pursuer was getting closer- almost to her now. Playing with her. She could not, she knew, present all that much of a game, in her state. Still she ran, attempting to propel herself from the side of the building, hoping the brief moment of contact with the brick would lend her some of its strength. She was tiring.  
  
Muscles screaming with exhaustion, she was forced to pause, just to catch her breath. She'd rounded the corner of another building- empty, like all the others. Or the owners were doing what any sane person did at this time of night- holed down in their own little bunker of safety, ever-watchful and alert for the very thing that chased her now. Where she should be. Where she'd had every intention of being, tonight.  
  
Running was foolish, but she didn't know how to do anything else.  
  
Hers was not the only life at stake.  
  
She'd gotten held up at the doctor's office- some last little damned tests they'd had to do, before the final month was completely over. “Just to be sure.” With wide eyes she'd eyed the setting sun, and the bland, empty smiles of the doctors were unconcerned as they assured her it was all for the best. It would all be fine, once they were done.  
  
Huddled in the shadow of the building, she did not feel fine. Another spike of pain was shooting up from her stomach, and she bowed over, covering her mouth to prevent herself from screaming. Placing a hand to her pregnant belly, she hissed silently, praying to whoever would listen for the baby to just _stay inside_ where it was safe until she could get them out of this. Just until sunrise. It didn't seem too much to ask. Allowing herself one tiny moment of pity, her eyes closed, tears dripping down the sides of her cheeks in stained lines as her head fell back against the wall. Another whoosh of motion, and her eyes opened, revealing another blur of the darkness. She swallowed, and gave a shuddering, sobbing breath. She was not going to survive this.  
  
Neither of them would.  
  
Hobbling, shuffling, she forced herself into motion again, each step forcing another wave of agony coursing through her. She kept moving. She had to keep moving, get somewhere safe. Anywhere, just until sunrise.  
  
When the whooshing next came, it was directly in front of her. And then _It_ stopped, staring at her with a slight incline of its head. Acknowledging the end to the game.  
  
She screamed, but nothing came out, a hand shooting out around her mouth and pinning her to the very wall she'd taken shelter against. Shutting off her screams. Though no one would have heard, anyway. She bit at the hand, scratched and kicked at the body, but it didn't matter. Her attacker was unfazed. She could only watch as eyes gone black with death raked over her body, penetrating to her very core.  
  
Deep, dark lips pulled back in a deadly smile, and white points glistened behind them. She fought again, and this time the hand released her mouth, entwining in her hair instead and yanking her head cruelly to one side. Exposing her neck. Another shooting contraction from her belly, and she screamed again, in agony this time. The baby wasn't waiting.  
  
 _It_ only laughed, seeming to enjoy her screams. She felt a hand not her own reach down, pressing cold fingers against her stomach and then applying pressure. Hard. She screamed again, eyes squeezing shut, and the tears that came now dripped from her cheeks onto the other cold hand. She felt a long, pointed fingernail trace a fine line of fire across her cheek, but it was negligible to the pain below. Her eyes cracked open, the spikes of pain now more akin to endless spirals, flaring white hot with every breath. She watched as that finger dipped between dark lips and across its tongue, leaving a streak of something redder- her blood, along its length.  
  
 _It_ nearly purred in satisfaction, and the rumble of its approval against her chest made her heave violently. Though that could have been the pain. She was fully in labor, now, she knew. Her face was contorted with it, vision gone so blurry she could barely see. Which was fine with her, really. Better to not watch as those red lips parted again, as gleaming white bared toward her throat.  
  
But even the burning spasms of labor weren't enough to block the feeling of fangs sharper than knife points digging into her exposed neck. Her eyes went wide, vision going almost completely black as she sunk against the wall, her body no longer able to keep her up. _It_ did not seem to care as it drank, crushing her body to the wall with its own, one hand still resting on her stomach as the other twisted ever-tighter into her hair.  
  
How long it lasted, she didn't know. She could feel herself being drained away, still conscious, still awake, but fading, and she knew when the draining stopped, sort of. When _It_ was finished, she wasn't standing any longer. She could almost pinpoint the final burning sweep of agony, dulled and almost far-away now. She could just barely hear a faint smack and then the squealing, angry cries. Her baby....  
  
She moaned at that, she was fairly sure, shakily tried to reach out a hand to take him. _It_ was surprised by that, maybe, and laughed, but kept the crying newborn away from her. Just far enough so she could see, but not touch.  
  
Only watch as _It_ had risen, cradling her newborn in its glittering arms, and smiled down with wicked pleasure, her blood still dripping in dark lines down its chin.  
  
She tried to stand, tried to reach after them. Even tried to scream. But _It_ just left her there in a cooling pool of her own blood, with nothing but its resounding laughter echoing in fading hearing.  
  
A strangled, sobbing breath, and her vision went completely black.  
  
Finally.

 

* * *

  
  
  
Emma Swan woke in her room in a cold sweat, panting and shaking. She took a deep, sob-filled breath. Counted to ten. And then twenty, and breathed again. She reached automatically for the bottle of water kept by her bed, and drank from it greedily. The scar on her neck, long since healed, was throbbing, as it always did when she dreamed. She rubbed it idly with the palm of her hand, sighing again, and glanced at the clock.  
  
Nearly dusk.  
  
At least she'd managed to sleep through most of the day, this time. Wearily, she swung her feet out of bed, grabbed her boots and gear and clothes, and silently began going about her evening routine. She finished early, as always, and fixed herself a quick breakfast (for her) of eggs and cheese and toast and juice.  
  
A few minutes before the final rays of the sun would disappear behind the horizon, she rose from her table. Time to get to work. Checking and re-checking her guns and the silver bullets with their wooden cores within, she strapped one of each to her hips, thighs, and two on her back, and slid a silver knife into each boot. She hated knives, swords, blades of any kind, really. She knew plenty of hunters who swore by them, but her own personal feeling was if you got close enough to use them, odds were you were probably almost already dead. But she kept the knives just in case.  
  
Finally ready, she was just shrugging on her leather jacket when a sharp knock at the door threw her out of routine.  
  
Warily, she pulled out a gun, and checked the door before opening it quickly, glancing out into the hall with gun at the ready.  
  
A young boy smiled up at her, eying the gun but otherwise making no threatening move. He couldn't have been older than nine. “Uh... hi.” he offered cheerily. “Are you Emma Swan?”  
  
“Yeah...” she answered warily. “Who're you?”  
  
“I'm Henry,” he shrugged. “I'm your son.”  
  
Floored, she blinked, so thrown by his earnest smile that she didn't even register the barest tips of points on his canines. At least at first.  
  
He brushed past her before she could notice much further, entering her home with no physical difficulty whatsoever. “Oh, hey, juice!” he noted excitedly, grabbing her half-finished glass and downing it instantly.  
  
By that time his fangs had fully computed, she was already in motion, aiming the gun with motions honed from long hours of practice. “Hey!”  
  
He turned just a little faster than she could see, still holding the juice glass. His lips were stained with orange pulp, clearly visible from the fading light pouring in through the window. Directly onto him, with no smoke or singing or even evident pain. She hesitated, extremely confused. Just a second's worth of hesitation, she told herself. Just enough to keep her from firing. “You're in the sun,” she muttered, confused. “I didn't invite you in.”  
  
He just blinked at her and wiped his mouth with a paper napkin. “Do you have any more juice?” he asked quietly, eying the gun a little nervously, but looking at her more than it. “I don't get it very often....” She looked very, very closely at his mouth. Small, but very definite fangs. She was so caught up on how the hell that all worked that she didn't even bother to question how an eight-year old had managed to track her down.  
  
The gun lowered just a little. “...In the fridge,” she whispered, her own mouth suddenly dry.  
  
“Thanks!” he beamed at her again, and opened the fridge door, pouring more juice into the glass and drinking it down.  
  
Emma only stared, watching him uneasily, but the gun was now only loosely held in her grasp. He appeared to suffer no ill effects at all from the orange juice. Or, when he asked afterward and she allowed it, toast, cereal, or, oddly, broccoli. He seemed to love the stuff, and that alone made her instantly wary of him, just as a kid.  
  
“...What are you?” she finally breathed, sliding down into her couch and swallowing roughly as she stared at him, eyes slightly glazing.  
  
“I told you,” he smiled again, and his fangs gleamed just a little. “I'm your son.”  
  
She swallowed again, and closed her eyes. “I need a minute,” she muttered. He seemed to understand, and left her alone, only disturbing her with chewing sounds of crunching vegetables as he continued to eat.  
  
“Okay,” she opened her eyes and breathed after a long minute. Or tried to. “Okay. You're my kid.” He nodded, rolling his eyes slightly as if it were obvious. “The kid I gave birth to, eight years ago, while being attacked by a vampire, who nearly killed me and then stole you.”  
  
He nodded again, this time sans eyeroll, and swallowed whatever he was eating at this point. She thought it was a celery stalk. His gaze had lowered to the floor.  
  
Emma continued slowly, taking a deep breath. “The vampire who I later hunted down, staked, and watched turn into a puddle of blood in front of my eyes, and there was no sign of you anywhere.”  
  
“...Ew.”  
  
She ignored the reaction, though did notice with a tiny level of amusement that he had finally stopped eating. The next question was hard for her, mainly because she couldn't decide what it was. “So... how... what... where.... do you live?” she finally finished, settling on no question in particular.  
  
“Storybrooke,” he answered quietly. “It's in Maine. I live with my Mom.”  
  
She felt her heart clench a bit in her chest. “...Your mom?”  
  
“Yeah. She's the mayor. You can meet her when you take me home.”  
  
“...When I do what?!”  
  
“Take me home,” he shrugged as if it were obvious, stifling a yawn. “You have to. Mom will freak out otherwise.” He yawned again. His voice was trailing off, dropping in volume as his eyelids began to droop.  
  
As she watched, she was beginning to get a little concerned. His fork drooped, then slipped completely from his fingers. “...You okay, kid?”  
  
He continued on as if he hadn't heard, his words slurred, voice faint. “And trust me, that's scary,” he muttered drowsily. “...Gonna takanap now....” He pitched forward, his head flopping on the table.  
  
She sprang off the couch and was at his side in an instant, hands braced out to hold him. “Henry?” she shook him by the shoulders, growing frantic when he didn't respond. “What the hell is wrong with you?!” she almost screamed.  
  
He winced, cracking his eyes open just a little. “Too much sunlight...” the eight-year-old murmured, and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. “...Mom...” he almost whimpered the word, and then his eyes closed again. “Mom will know....”  
  
Emma froze, unable to even process. She took a few panicked breaths, not moving, hardly daring to breathe.  
  
 _Okay, Emma,_ her brain finally began to kickstart into gear. Deep breaths. That would help. _So the kid you'd given up all hope of ever finding is not, in fact, dead. He's conked out in your arms._ She pulled him out of the chair completely, lifting and draping him over her shoulder. His mouth opened just a bit, revealing the fangs. And that was another whole cause for concern. Her eyes flicked to the map still open on her computer screen, covered with blinking red lines indicating possible locations of targets she was tracking. Vampire targets.  
  
Her eyes moved back to those teeth, so near her neck. She had to fight to keep the bile from rising in her throat. _He's not a vampire, s_ he told herself. He'd been eating normal food. He'd been in the sun. He hadn't needed an invitation. _He's... something else._  
  
She took another deep breath, and held him. In his sleep, his head turned to one side, resting the weight of it on her shoulder. A wave of protectiveness she hadn't felt in years kicked its way through her. In wonder, the hand not supporting most of his weight slid up to lightly rest on the back of his head. _He's my son. And he needs me._ She sighed. _But what the hell do I do?_  
  
He whimpered again, face contorted and his hands clenched for a moment. “Mom...” he barely squeaked out.  
  
And she realized that he didn't necessarily mean her. 'Mom will know,' he'd said. Her eyes flitted back to the map on the computer screen, and, still cradling her... son.... Her son. She cracked a small smile. Her son was alive. That was going to take some getting used to. But she shifted him slightly to get a hand free, and typed in the 'directions to' bar. Storybrooke. Maine.  
  
She would wonder, much later, how the search had even worked at all. Whether a result of it being _her_ computer or simply her typing. In either case, the directions should never have populated. At the time, though, she only curse the ever-present slowness of the internet at this time of day, when moderators had taken to their own bunkers and no one was around to ensure searches went smoothly.

 

Still, within a few minutes, directions were found and automatically printed. By car, six hours and thirty-eight minutes away.  
  
Six hours?! With wide-eyes, she stared at the clock on the computer. At the height of summer, sunrise was almost exactly seven hours from now. She shifted the kid in her arms a bit more. 'Too much sunlight,' he'd said. No wonder, if he'd spent the last seven hours on a bus, in the daylight, on his way here. If his... mother... knew what to do, she needed to get him to her. Soon. Before sunrise.  
  
Which means they needed to leave now.  
  
Groaning, she managed to finagle herself into grabbing her keys and heading out to her car, on the alert as always for prowling vamps. They wouldn't think twice about attacking her, even armed as she still was. Even carrying a child. She knew that damned well.  
  
But the security measures seemed to be working, tonight. She got them to the car just fine, propping Henry into the backseat so he could still sleep.  
  
She'd figure out the what she'd say to the Night Patrols when she had to.  
  


 

* * *

  
  
Oddly... damned oddly, she managed to get almost all the way to this Storybrooke before being stopped. And it wasn't by a traveling Patrolsman. It was a wall.  
  
Well, two watchtowers on either side of the road, between which spanned a gate. And silver, shiny wire suspended from the other sides of the towers, connecting to others in an incredibly elaborate crisscrossing web of metal. The wires sparked from time to time, making her eyes widen. Electric as well as silver? Gated towns, especially small ones, weren't unheard of, she knew. But she'd never seen anything quite to this degree.  
  
A rapping at her window forced her to stop looking at the wire, and she cursed herself for her lack of attention. “Travel papers!” the voice demanded of her.  
  
Slowly, she rolled the window down, hand surreptitiously moving to her gun. Just in case. Her other hand grabbed her papers, identifying her name as Emma Swan, profession: hunter. And oh, did the guy's eyes get wide when he read that. She was used to that, when people saw her papers. Used to the looks of gratitude and near-adoration and slight fear that came with it, too.  
  
But this guy looked severely pissed. He practically threw the papers back into her car, gripping the window with white knuckles. “We don't permit hunters here,” he announced, loud enough so that several gaps and cries of outrage rang out from the others posted to the gate. “You'll have to leave.”  
  
She raised an eyebrow at that. What town didn't allow hunters? “I've no intention of staying. Just need to drop something off and then I'll be on my way.”  
  
He eyed her warily. “Hunters are taking delivery jobs now?”  
  
She knew it was meant to be a jibe, but she just shrugged it off. “That's what happens when you're too good at your job,” she smirked, a dangerous glint in her eyes. “There's no one left to kill.”  
  
A low growl was the only reply. And for an instant, Emma could swear she saw the glimmer of yellow behind the man's eyes. _Werewolf._ She gripped the gun a little tighter. But the wolf-glow was gone, and the man sighed. “Look, I don't care what you're delivering. You can't go in. Leave. Now.”  
  
“Even when I'm delivering him?” Emma jerked her head, indicating the backseat.  
  
Keeping a wary eye on her, he cast a quick glance into the back window. And then froze, staring. “Henry!” the man breathed. “It's Henry Mills!”  
  
And suddenly, before she could blink, two other blurs of motion appeared from every side, completely surrounding her car as they stilled to reveal themselves as people-shaped.  
  
A snarl rose, buried, in the back of her throat. Vamps. ...Oddly... worried-looking vamps. But vamps, all the same.  
  
The man- _werewolf,_ her mind corrected- was looking relieved. “The mayor's been worried sick about him! We'll take him from here,” he offered, moving to open the car door with unnatural quickness.  
  
But no quicker than she had raised her gun. “Yeah, I don't think so.” She cocked it, aiming it directly at his heart.  
  
The two vamps snarled, baring their fangs, but did not approach. _Odd._  
  
The werewolf swallowed, his eyes going wolf-yellow again. She didn't waver. “...You still can't go in,” he growled.  
  
“Watch me.” She revved the engine.  
  
He looked about ready to pounce, but just as the hackles began to raise, a tired voice sounded from the backseat.  
  
“Emma?” Henry sat up, his voice squeaking just a bit. And that caused her to waver, eyes glancing back at him for a split-second. “Are we home yet?”  
  
“Not yet, kid,” she replied back, as gently as she could while in a stand-off. “Just lay back down. We'll be there soon.”  
  
“'Kay,” he muttered, eyes drooping again, but not before briefly focusing on the figure outside the car. “Hi, Graham.” His voice was nearly inaudible now, but the wolf, of course, would have no problem hearing it. “S'Emma,” Henry continued, and she had to hide a smile. Even mostly unconscious, he still bothered with introductions. “She's my....” and then he was completely out again, unable to finish.  
  
But it obviously had an effect on the werewolf. He paused, glancing nervously at the unconscious form of Henry before looking at the two vamps. And then at Emma again. “You're Henry's...?”  
  
She raised an eyebrow, and nodded. “Yeah, I'm his-” But she stopped at the look on his face.  
  
He seemed to be struggling with something. Finally, he gave a sigh, and nodded to the two vamps. They nodded back, and were gone. The gates began to open. Emma blinked, surprised, and slowly drew her gun back into the car, though she didn't lower it completely.  
  
“...The mayor's house is 108 Mifflin St. ...Just take him in, drop him off, and leave.”  
  
Emma smirked, “That was always the plan. I knew you'd see it my way.” As the gates opened fully, she dropped the gun, floored the engine, and sped into town before he could say another word.  
  
The werewolf stood, watching her drive off, and then nodded to the two vampires manning the gates. He pulled out his phone and dialed.  
  
“Regina? It's Graham. Henry's been found. …I think he's alright, it was hard to tell. He seems sun-exhausted, I think. ...Yes... He's on his way. …Yes, I understand. ...Yes, and... Regina, I think we have a problem.”  


 


	2. Come On and Dance Away the Growing Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Emma Swan , Vampire Hunter, first encounters Regina Mills, Mayor.... among other things.

**Chapter II**  
  
By the time Emma had found the immense white house surrounded by immaculately manicured hedgerows, the first hints of sunlight were just beginning to lighten the sky.  
  
A woman was waiting outside. Dark, shoulder-length hair and a grey dress fluttered with motion as Emma pulled up, their owner running to the car. Emma had to force herself from pulling a gun on her, too. She knew this was undoubtedly Henry's ...mother, but she'd really had enough of people running up to her car tonight. Her eyes flew to the woman’s open mouth, checking automatically for fangs. There were none. And no yellow around the eyes. Human. She kept her gun holstered, and put the car in park.  
  
She got out of the yellow bug without saying anything, and the woman didn't seem to care, running to the back door of the car and frantically tugging on it. “Henry!” she called out, and Emma felt a number of emotions sweep through her at the sheer amount of care and love in her tone.  
  
The door was sticking. It did that from time to time, and Emma was stepping forward to get it herself when the woman shot her an ice-filled, deadly glare. “You will stay back, _hunter_.” The word was spat out like a curse, and Emma froze in her steps from shock alone. Seriously? What was with this town and hunters? Most people were relieved whenever she came around. It meant a momentary end to their worries, and a few nights of not having to huddle in some fortified basement, afraid of every rustle or blurry motion.  
  
With a savage yank, the woman forced the door open, and sprang into the backseat. Gathering Henry into her arms, she pulled him out and nuzzled him lightly, and then proceeded to check him over like a mother lion with her cub. Henry roused, just a little, whimpering out a weak 'mom' before curling his arms around her neck. Just as he'd done with Emma earlier.  
  
His mother held him cradled in her arms as if he weighed nothing, apparently satisfied with his physical appearance, and began walking, carefully, back to the house.  
  
Not wishing to intrude this ...touching moment, Emma still found herself with a hell of a lot of questions. And this woman, undoubtedly, had some of the answers. Without making any sudden movements, Emma followed, finally asking just before they got to the door. “...Is he gonna be okay?”  
  
Dark eyes turned on her in a flash, their owner seeming to have forgotten she was there. Now that she was reminded, her face practically burned with threat and anger. “If you have done _anything_ to hurt my son, I swear I will destroy you.” Emma stepped back, completely thrown, as the woman snarled, “if it is the last thing I do.”  
  
“Whoa, calm down, lady!” She raised her hands, both in attempt to calm and to show that yes, she was armed, but her weapons were out of reach at the moment. “I didn't do anything! He just kinda collapsed onto my table.”  
  
“...Sun exhaustion,” the woman murmured, quietly, more to herself than Emma. She held Henry more tightly, as if afraid Emma was going to break him. Her face hardened further. “I'll handle it from here,” she said simply, as if that ended things. “You're free to leave my town, _hunter._ Don't return.” She gave Emma a final look, and then headed into her house.  
  
Fuming, Emma followed her after only a tiny moment of hesitation, slamming the door open behind the other woman so forcefully it knocked into the side wall. It hadn't been locked, of course. Henry's mother hadn't the time, with her son still in her arms. “Look, can we just talk about this? I don't exactly know what's going on, but I really kind of need to.”  
  
Eyes wide, the other woman still took a moment to deposit her son safely on a couch before turning, as if stunned that anyone would dare step into her home without permission. “‘Need to?!’” She rose from her half-crouch, advancing on Emma's position with all the dangerous grace of a tiger. “You don't need to do anything _,_ ” she growled. “I appreciate you bringing my son back to me, but I can assure you, your presence is not wanted or needed. Now get the hell out of my house!”  
  
Emma had just about had enough, marching forward until she was nose-to-nose with the brunette. “He's. _My._ Son!”  
  
That, at least, got the brunette's attention. Her mouth dropped open, and she blinked, taking a moment to process. “...You're his... you're Henry's birth-mother?” her eyes dropped automatically to her neck, and Emma knew she was seeing her scar.   
  
Emma's fury was so deep, her mind so completely overwhelmed by the events that had completely shaken her world upside down that her hands were wrapped around the other woman's shoulders before she was even conscious of it. Spinning her, she practically slammed the other woman into the nearest wall, getting as close as she dared and snarling directly into the mayor’s face. “My son was ripped away from me seconds after he was born. I've spent the last eight years grieving him, and now suddenly he shows up at my door sporting fangs and walking around in daylight! I get that he needs your help, but dammit you will tell me what the hell he is!”  
  
Looking like she was about ready to eviscerate this troublesome blonde right here and now, an animalistic growl rumbled deep and low in the brunette's chest. Her jaw was clenched tightly shut, but lips seemed about ready to part when a tiny voice gave her pause.  
  
“Mom?” Henry whimpered, sounding dazed.  
  
The change in the other woman was immediate.  Her eyes snapped to the couch, and then to the woman keeping her pinned. “It's okay, Henry,” she said gently. “I’ll be right there.” Staring directly into green eyes brimming with fury, the woman finally spoke. “Let go of me.” The command was quiet; deadly in its intensity.  
  
Looking straight back into unending pools of blackness, Emma slowly released her hold, taking a step back. She took a breath, and then another.  
  
The woman straightened her shoulders and smoothed a few wrinkles on her dress, turning her head in both directions until a faint crack of her spine realigning was heard. “What's your name?”  
  
“Emma,” the blonde replied, her voice much quieter now. “Emma Swan.”  
  
The other woman was silent for a long moment. She repeated the name, her lips almost seeming to taste how the sounds felt on her tongue. “Regina,” she said by way of introduction, and left it at that.“The sun is rising,” she muttered, almost absently glancing at the still-open door behind the blonde. She swallowed, and broke the eye contact. Her eyes lingered on the form of her unconscious son, then slowly flitted back at Emma. She appeared to make a decision. “Leave your weapons outside; I'll not have them in my house.” She pressed off from the wall and then walked away, automatically assuming that Emma would obey, and turned to kneel beside her son.  
  
A little stunned by the sudden turn-around, the blonde just stood there for a moment, then slowly stepped back outside the door. Removing her wide variety of weaponry took more time than she would have liked, and when she'd finally set all the guns and her two knives on the porch, she felt extremely exposed. And empty. She snatched up one of her smaller pistols and quickly replaced it behind her back. She could always say she'd forgotten about it later, if she had to.  
  
Re-entering the house, she made sure to close and bolt the door behind her. And it was only then that she noticed just how ...prepared the house itself was. There were very few windows, and those that did exist were completely covered, heavy sun-blocking curtains nailed down to prevent any sunlight at all from entering. But the house was by no means dark. Sconces and lamps seemed to be just about everywhere, bathing the interior of the house in a warm glow.  
  
It felt... cozy. Almost.  
  
Feeling entirely like an intruder, Emma returned to the room where the woman- Regina- was kneeling over her son. She held a flashlight in one hand and seemed to be checking Henry's pupils. The other rested lightly on his forehead, checking to see if he felt warm. Which was a little absurd, Emma thought. She did not turn around when Emma entered the room, though she was obviously aware of her presence. “Did you feed him?” her voice demanded, imperious but subdued in volume.  
  
Taken aback by the question, the blonde slowly approached, but kept her distance. “Uh, yeah. Kid practically devoured my entire refrigerator.”  
  
The brunette whirled violently, so suddenly Emma had to take a step back. Her speed had seemed almost inhuman for a moment there. She shook her head. She'd already examined the woman's teeth. No fangs.  
  
“You gave him human food?!” It was evident Regina was wondering how on earth she could ever have been so stupid. Like it should be obvious or something. Emma grimaced, glaring at the older woman, but Regina's attention was no longer on her, rising and heading into the kitchen. Watching her, an uneasy feeling began to build in Emma's chest. And only intensified when the brunette withdrew a wicked-looking pair of kitchen shears.   
  
“...What are you doing?”  
  
“He needs blood,” Regina said simply.  
  
With a growing sense of panic, Emma's eyes grew wide as saucers, and the tips of her fingers moved to lightly brush over her remaining gun. Though she didn't draw it. Yet. Henry's mother glanced at her posture, and then shook her head, almost laughing. “I didn't mean yours, dear. I keep some in the warmer.”  
  
Taking a deep breath to assuage the cold shot of panic that had just bolted through her system, Emma released the gun and relaxed just a little. With an evaluating sort of smile, Regina cast her eyes over Emma from head to toe, sizing her up with a strange, amused look. “Unless... I suppose, if you wanted to...?”  
  
And there was that panic again. Seeing it in her eyes, the brunette just laughed again, retrieving the medical bag of blood, slicing the tubing off with the shears, and pouring its contents into what appeared to be a sippy cup.  
  
Returning to the living room, she knelt on the floor again and lightly shook Henry's shoulder. With a quiet murmur, the boy woke slightly, and with his mother keeping a hand to guide the cup to his lips, he began to drink. Slight color instantly began to return to his cheeks. Humming a soothing but quiet little song, Regina stroked his hair back away from his face, releasing the cup when Henry grew strong enough to hold it in both hands on his own.  
  
Though part of her felt she could almost be physically ill at the sight of her own son chugging down blood like it was milk, another part of Emma felt oddly touched. Having never had the sort of mother herself who'd show such open affection, her heart clenched in her chest. And then sunk again. That should have been her. It would have been, if not for the damned ...things that she spent her nights hunting now.  
  
She said nothing, only watching, almost afraid to break the tender scene in front of her.  
  
Finally, Henry seemed to finish, draining the cup dry with a hiss of air. Smiling at him, Regina took the empty cup. “Feel better?” she asked quietly.  
  
Henry nodded, still looking a little sleepy. Regina bent to press a kiss to his brow, and then rose to put the cup away. Giving a blood-stained yawn, Henry snuggled in a bit deeper into the couch. His eyelids drooped, trying desperately to stay awake. “Hi, Emma,” he murmured, blinking slowly.  
  
Hands crossed over her chest a little awkwardly, she smiled in what she hoped was a reassuring way. And not a 'holy crap you just downed a sippy cup full of blood' kind of way. “Hey, kid.”  
  
“Sorry I fell asleep...” he muttered, looking as though he might do it again.  
  
Even with blood around his lips, the kid still somehow managed to be kind of endearing. “It's okay,” she whispered.  
  
Blinking up at her slowly, Henry smiled, and yawned again, licking his lips of the final red traces.  
  
“Henry,” Regina re-entered, bending down slightly, though not getting on the floor. “Do you think you can manage getting to your room?”  
  
He nodded wordlessly, and very slowly sat up. Regina made no move to help him, though every fibre of Emma's being screamed for her to. She even began to do so herself before Henry shot her a look. “I can do it!” he insisted petulantly.  
  
And he did. Slowly, hanging onto the banister the entire way up the stairs, but he did make it into his bed. Regina was always a step or two behind, and when he finally flopped down, utterly exhausted, she silently removed his shoes and tucked him in. Finished, she sat on the edge of the bed and straightened his hair. “Henry,” she breathed, giving another little sigh. “I was very worried about you,” she scolded, but not entirely unkindly.  
  
The poor kid looked as though he was about ready to pass out again, though this time from sleepiness alone. “Sorry, Mom,” he grunted through drowsy eyes. “...Can Emma stay for a while? Just 'til I wake up?”  
  
Regina swallowed, glancing over at the blonde she'd nearly forgotten about again, standing in the door frame. “...We'll see.” Taking a deep breath and exhaling it slowly, Regina just gave him a quick hug and kissed his forehead again. “Go back to sleep,” she sighed. “We'll talk about this later.”  
  
“'Kay,” he murmured. “G'morning, Mom. G'morning, Emma.”  
  
Just outside the door, feeling her double whammy of jealousy and intrusion yet again, Emma tried to speak, and found herself voiceless. Clearing her throat, she tried again. “...Good morning, kid. Sleep well.” She almost added ‘pleasant dreams,’ before realizing she had no idea if... whatever the kid was dreamed or not. Vampires didn’t, she knew.  
  
With a pointed glare at Emma, Regina rose from her son's bed, quickly departing the room and closing the door behind her. “My study, Miss Swan,” she ordered, and brushed past the blonde to head back down the stairs.  
  
Emma followed. She felt like she'd been doing that quite often since she'd gotten in this house, and frankly, was a little sick of it. But she wanted answers, and she wanted them now. So as soon as they'd both safely gotten off the stairs, she grabbed Regina's arm, slightly less roughly than earlier, and spun her around to face her. “Look, I don't mean to be an imposition or whatever. But I really, _really_ need to know what the fuck my son is, and you're the only one who probably knows the answer to that. So can you please stop just ordering me around and tell me?”  
  
Noticeably flinching at the hold the blonde had on her, Regina glared at her, shrugging the hand off as if it physically burned her. “Stop touching me!” she hissed, keeping her voice down. “It is for Henry's sake alone that you're even still in my house, _Hunter.”_  
  
Emma released her, but her anger did not dissipate. “Seriously?” she snarled. “What the hell is your problem? Yeah, I'm a hunter. Big deal. I don't know if you've noticed, but there are a lot of us about these days.”  
  
“Not in Storybrooke!” Regina spat. A vein in her forehead slid into prominence, a sure sign of her upset.  
  
Laughing, the blonde ran a hand through her hair. “Yeah, I've already met your welcome party. They don't seem all that friendly. What is this place; a safe haven for vampires or something?!”  
  
Regina's answer was automatic, direct, and said with no small amount of pride: “Yes.”  
  
With wide eyes, Emma felt her jaw drop. Her anger seemed to dissipate, floored by the understated simplicity of that statement. And all that it implied. “I... need to sit down,” she muttered, feeling woozy.  
  
“Which is why I suggested the study,” the brunette smirked and led the way, not looking back to see if Emma was following or if her legs gave out under her. When Emma finally entered the room and sat down on the nearest surface- a couch, as it turned out- Regina had her back to her, busy at her sidebar.  
  
“Would you like a drink, Miss Swan?”  
  
She nodded silently, all words and emotions still frozen as her brain struggled to catch up with the news that there was a town full of vampires living in Maine. And her son was one of them.  
  
Regina handed her a tumbler, and she sipped it quickly, barely even registering that it was apple cider before it was burning a path down her throat. It was good.  
  
Her host had poured herself a different vintage, something red and very dark. It looked expensive. Probably why Emma hadn't been offered any. Sipping the cider again, she was a little glad of the fact. It was _really_ good. When about half her glass was gone and she could finally form words again, she took a deep breath, and hesitantly asked. “So... Storybrooke is... what, exactly?”  
  
Finishing her swallow before replying, Regina just smirked, looking extremely smug. “Officially, it's an experiment, dear.”  
  
A scoff slipped past Emma's lips, her eyebrows raising incredulously. “A town completely populated by vampires and all you have to say is it's an 'experiment'?!”  
  
“Not 'completely,'” Regina admonished, a little defensively. “They make up less than half of the population. We do have a number of werewolves in town, too. And humans. Even a few witches. All of their own volition. We've worked it out quite nicely.” The pride was back in her voice.  
  
Emma's mind flashed back to the werewolf- Graham- she'd seen at the gates. “Nice to know you don't discriminate,” she muttered, barely intelligible.  
  
“Not at all. Though it's obvious enough that you do. Attacked at a younger age, were you?” she asked pointedly, eyes once again fixed on the scar of Emma's neck.  
  
Emma recoiled as if she'd been slapped. “Don't,” she hissed out dangerously.  
  
An incline of her head and a slight upward turn of Regina's upper lip. “Merely an observation, dear. There's no need to take it personally. You had to have been,” she paused, taking a sip of her drink before continuing. “Otherwise Henry would not be... what he is.”  
  
“And what is he?”  
  
Regina leveled a glare at her, finishing her glass and rising from her leather chair. “Before I answer that, I want us to make one thing very, very clear, Miss Swan.”  
  
“What?”  
  
The darker woman stepped closer, and then bent down to look Emma directly in the eye. Swallowing, a little uncomfortable, Emma nevertheless met the gaze, unwilling to show any of her uncertainty. She felt for sure that it would be a bad thing, to let this woman see her uneasy. A hand snaked out, taking Emma's chin between manicured fingernails. “Henry is _my_ son,” she hissed. “I have loved him every moment of every day and night for the last eight years. I've changed every diaper, soothed every fever, sated every craving. You may have given birth to him, but he is my son. And I won't let him be hurt. Not by anyone. Especially not by you.”  
  
Emma balked. She'd not been expecting that at all. Though, probably, she supposed she should have. “I'm not here to hurt Henry!” she insisted.  
  
Regina raised an eyebrow, not releasing her chin. “Are you here to take him from me?”  
  
Emma knew she could get out of this hold quite easily, grab her gun, and put a bullet between the other woman's eyes all before she could probably react. But she also knew Regina was just being a caring mother. Running a tongue over her dry lips, she sighed. Honesty was probably best, here. “I don't... I don't know yet,” she whispered.  
  
The brunette searched her eyes long and hard. Very slowly and calmly, she growled out a warning. “I. Will. _Not_. Let you take him from me.”  
  
“He's my son!” Emma growled. Jerking her head back to release Regina's hold on her, she fought the urge to go for her gun. “He was stolen from me! I always wanted him!”  
  
“And you want him now?”  
  
Emma swallowed thickly. She wanted to say yes, she just didn't think she could. “...I don't even know what he is!”  
  
Some point during her thinking, Regina had poured herself another glass and returned to her chair, sitting down with a flourish. “That shouldn't matter,” she stated, crossing her legs at the ankle. “If you're his mother, you'll want him anyway. Love him anyway.”  
  
“How the hell would I know how to take care of him if I don't know what he is?!”  
  
Regina tilted her head to the side, smirking. As if that question had been her goal all along. “How indeed?” she echoed aloud. Her arms went to either side of her chair, spread wide over its arms in a clear message of domination.  
  
The blonde felt tears burning behind her eyes, and choked them back. “...What is he? Just tell me.” It was practically a plea. And then, just for good measure, she added: “Please.”  
  
“He's my son,” Regina replied, shrugging and sipping at her drink. “Other than that... he's what is referred to as a 'Sunwalker.' A vampire who can 'pass' for human. Apart from the obvious ability implied in the name, he can enter homes without invitations, consume human food, retract his fangs... everything a vampire cannot do.” She hesitated. “Or he will be. Right now he's too young to withstand much direct sunlight without it taking a severe toll, but when he's older....” she trailed off, smiling softly and sipping from her drink.  
  
Emma felt her mind reeling, almost getting dizzy from everything she'd learned this evening. Morning. Past few days. Whatever. “And you know this... how?”  
  
The drink lowered, carefully placed on a coaster before Regina spoke again. “For a long time, Sunwalkers were considered myths. Something that only existed in fairy tales. But there was a vampire; an inhabitant of Storybrooke until somewhat recently, who found means of creating them. Biting pregnant humans at a very specific time and inducing labor. The success rate was... varied.” From the way she said it, Regina may just as well have been talking about the weather.  
  
“And when it worked he stole the children and brought them here once the mothers had been left bleeding out in empty alleyways?!” There was, Emma was sure, not ever going to be a time when she did not get angry thinking about how exactly she'd given birth. The brunette’s blase treatment of the subject didn’t help much.   
  
Raising an eyebrow, Regina looked at her pointedly. “He brought the children here, yes. Almost all of them died quickly. Henry was the sole exception.”  
  
There was a lengthy moment of silence while Emma digested this. She threw back the last of her cider without tasting it, as if it could quell the feelings churning within her. Or the wave of nausea and dizziness that had been burning in the back of her head for a while. She was getting tired. Very tired. She shrugged it off. It happened from time to time, when she’d been awake too long. Regina did not seem inclined to break the quiet, instead closing her eyes and embracing it, resting the back of her head on her chair.  
  
Finally, after Emma could stand it no more, she lightly breathed: “...So you knew what Henry was when you-” she swallowed, unable to finish. “Why would you choose to ...adopt a kid with so many... needs?”  
  
“There is the simple fact that I love him,” Regina shot back. She hadn't so much as opened her eyes. When Emma would have protested that that wasn't what she meant, Regina just lifted her head and shot her a glare before giving a long, slow sigh. “I'm uniquely qualified to raise Henry,” she finished. “Let's leave it at that.”  
  
While Emma normally would have questioned further, another wave of dizziness suddenly seemed to take hold of her. Weariness overcame her muscles, and her grip on the empty tumbler faltered, almost dropping it before catching herself.  
  
Regina's eyebrows raised, her lips pursed slightly. “Are you alright?” If she didn't know better, Emma might have thought she actually cared. In fact, Regina was looking at her almost... too intently. Like she had suddenly become a lab rat or something equally worthy of study.  
  
It was unnerving, and she hated it. “Yeah,” Emma muttered, trying to brush off the feeling. She raised a shaking hand to her brow and rubbed her temple. The dizziness did not abate. “Tired,” she admitted. “I uh... didn't sleep well.” That was putting it lightly. Hopefully the explanation would convince Regina that she didn't need such close scrutiny.  
  
“And then drove all night.” Regina supplied. She seemed to give the matter some thought, and then finally rose from her chair, placing her now empty glass on the sidebar. “There's a guest bedroom down the hall. Rest there until you feel you can properly handle a car. And then leave.”  
  
Though she initially bristled, standing quickly to defend that she could drive just fine, thanks, the effort was made moot when another shock of dizziness coursed through her. Regina just raised her eyebrows in an evident 'I told you so.' Emma wondered if that was just natural for her, or if she was slipping into 'Mom' mode. “You're just going to let me stay?” she managed.  
  
Giving another sigh, the mayor straightened her back, glancing over her shoulder at the stairs.“Henry...” she began, and Emma was struck again by the amount of care that managed to creep into Regina's voice when she said his name, “will need to feed again soon, and then he'll sleep until sunset. He'll want to see you.” _To say goodbye_ went unspoken, but Emma didn't need to physically hear it. It was implied.  
  
Stumbling a little on feet that didn't seem to function quite right, Emma found herself led to the guest room without another word. Regina turned down the bed, ever the hostess, and then brushed past the blonde quickly once Emma was inside. “Pleasant dreams, Miss Swan,” she called.  
  
If she hadn't been so exhausted, the blonde would have laughed. Her dreams were never pleasant.  
  


 

* * *

 

Even having been woken in the middle of his sleep, Henry's strength was returning, and this time Regina didn't have to hold the cup at all. She'd even foregone the sippy cup entirely, instead handing her son a glass with a curly straw sticking out of it. Henry beamed, making a grotesque slurping noise with the straw when the blood was all gone before his mother took the glass away, pretending she wasn't smiling at his antics. It was a good sign.  
  
The smile faded when Henry chirped up immediately afterward: “Is Emma still here?”  
  
A pang shot its way through her heart, and Regina had to look away, taking a moment to steady herself, using the excuse of setting the empty glass on the dresser before turning back to him. That had hurt far more than it really should have. “...Yes,” she finally answered, half-sitting on his bed to run a hand down his cheek. “She's asleep down the hall.”  
  
“Good.” He yawned, stretching his arms out over his head before they burrowed back in the pillows again. “I like Emma,” he added sleepily.  
  
“... I know,” she said softly. Henry was already asleep. Rising, Regina grabbed the glass and left his room, closing to door behind her.  
  
When she got to the kitchen, the glass was in pieces in her hand, and slow, dark, sluggish blood was oozing out of a gash along her palm. 

 

 


	3. Gonna Get with the Rhythm 'til the Morning Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Emma is rudely awakened, and legal problems begin.

** Chapter III  **

  
Later, after everything else had finally settled, the thought would pass through Emma's head to wonder if she'd been drugged. She fell into sleep remarkably easily, barely even remembering to put her gun beneath her pillow before drifting into blissfully dreamless sleep.   
  


* * *

  
  
The broken shards of Henry's glass were dealt with easily enough, tossed in the bin without a second thought. The cut on her hand was gone even sooner, as if it had never been. She only wished Miss Swan could be dealt with the same way. The thought was tempting. She even hesitated outside the door the blonde was currently behind. But no. Instead, she gathered the used tumbler and her own glass from the study, washed them by hand and set them aside to dry.   
  
Alone, with everyone else in her house asleep, Regina finally allowed herself to enjoy the quiet. And think. She would ensure Miss Swan left after Henry awoke, and then her town and her son would both be safe from her interfering, annoying presence. 

 

The presence of a Hunter. A shudder rippled down her spine. Just thinking of the damage a Hunter could do to the precious peace of her town sickened her. Especially one such as Miss Swan, who was obviously fueled by hate and her own pain rather than simple financial gain. Hunters were always paid very well for their services. The job certainly came with its expenses, Regina supposed.   
  
Suddenly, a realization bloomed into her mind. The idiot Hunter had disarmed herself on her porch. Probably without second thought to how long her weapons would be left or who might possibly see them. With near frantic speed, Regina leapt up from her chair and dashed towards the main door. With a quick glance up the stairs to ensure Henry was nowhere near, she opened the door and allowed the sunlight, even filtered as it was by her rows of hedges, to stream in.   
  
She was out the door in a moment, and both relieved and alarmed to see the large pile of weaponry still in place on the porch. She sighed, a hand sliding up to the hollow of her throat and subconsciously toying with a ring she wore on a chain around her neck. It was a nervous habit; one she couldn't bear breaking herself of.   
  
A tingle slid through her fingers as she bent to touch one of the guns. A deep spark of purple arced high from her flesh to the metal. She hissed, surprised, and jerked her hand back, eying the thing with renewed interest. An enchantment. Interesting. Perhaps Miss Swan wasn't as foolish as she seemed.   
  


* * *

  
  
Something was moving. Close to her head.   
  
Emma's hand flew beneath her pillow the same moment she jerked away, hand automatically clasping around the handle of her gun... that wasn't there. Eyes snapping open, Emma whirled to face whatever had awoken her.   
  
She was met only with an amused smirk. “Ah,” Regina chuckled, seated quite comfortably in a chair against the far wall. “You're awake. Good. You can explain to me what this-” and she held up the gun in question with two fingers, as if it were some sort of dead rodent, “-is doing in my house.”   
  
Emma stared at it, her hands still beneath the pillow, as if unable to process that the gun was no longer there. “How the hell did you get that?”   
  
“You left it under the pillow, dear.”   
  
She continued to stare, transfixed by the sight of her gun in Regina's hand. “No, how the hell are you touching it?! My guns are enchanted; no one but me can touch them!”   
  
“Mhmm, I know,” Regina purred, and seemed to inspect the gun more thoroughly, flexing her fingers over the handle. “Complicated, too.” Looping a finger through the trigger guard, she allowed the gun to dangle precariously, as if considering dropping it. “ It took me an entire twelve seconds to break.”   
  
“...What?! What are you-” The gun started levitating. Emma promptly forgot the rest of her sentence.   
  
Still wearing her smirk, Regina twisted her hand, the palm open and fingers slightly curved. Held by nothing, the gun turned in midair, as if on a revolving table. The mayor flexed her fingers, and the magazine suddenly popped out of the gun, falling from its held position into Regina's waiting hand. The pistol itself was pushed backward, closer to Emma. Nearly close enough for her to take, until it paused as Regina seemed to consider something. The safety of the gun clicked on, the chamber opened, and the single round left within the weapon popped out. It took, made its way back into Regina's hand. The gun, now completely empty, landed on the bed next to Emma with a soft thud.   
  
Green eyes almost impossibly wide, Emma felt herself swallow as she stared at the gun, and then at the woman who now held its ammunition. “You're a witch.” And a powerful one, if she'd broken through the defensive spells. Emma didn't understand most of the inner mechanics of witchcraft, having neither the talent or patience for magic. But she knew that enchantments could only be broken by those stronger than those who had cast them. And her enchantments had been done by the most powerful witch she'd ever fought. Right before she'd killed her.   
  
Regina rolled her eyes, but narrowed them into a glare lest she get any ideas. “You're incredibly observant, Miss Swan.”   
  
Magic was a dying art in the recent days of darkness. As it had been explained to her, magic was the essence of life itself. Like all life on the planet, all magic was ultimately fueled by the sun. This made it an incredibly effective weapon against vampires, but those able to wield it were stalked by vampire and Hunters alike. Vamps seemed to think magical blood was some sort of aphrodisiac- sweeter tasting and more addictive than anything in the world. And a vampire high on the blood of a witch was quite possibly more dangerous than anything else out there.   
  
Wrinkling her nose, Emma reached for the weapon that was now only about as useful as a club. “Wouldn't have expected a witch in a town full of vamps,” she said thickly, eying the brunette carefully. “Much less have one be the mayor.”   
  
“The citizens of my town know better than to attack any other citizen. Our laws against such things are... extremely thorough.” Regina's eyes narrowed, “As you said, dear: we don't discriminate.” She shook the magazine clip in her hand to draw Emma's attention to it. “As you failed to observe my wishes in my own home, you'll get this back when you leave.” The tone of her voice, the 'Mom' tone, left no room for argument.   
  
“That's not-”   
  
“Not up for discussion, Miss Swan.” Regina's eyes flashed in irritation, and for a tiny moment it looked as though they had darkened all the way to black before returning to brown. “Please remember: I have no obligation to you whatsoever. The  _ only  _ reason you are still in my house is because Henry wants you to be.”   
  
“But I-”   
  
Not finished, Regina flicked her free hand absently through her hair, as if arguing with Emma had ruffled her slightly. “It's nearly sundown,” she offered. “He'll need to feed. Unless you really want to watch that again,” and the sudden look on the blonde's face revealed her to be correct in thinking she would not, “you can get yourself ready to go, and I'll bring him to say goodbye when he's done.” Without even waiting for a response, the mayor turned and left the room, the clicking of her heels echoing as they crossed the floor.   
  
“And get the rest of your armory off my porch,” the mayor called over her shoulder.   
  


* * *

  
  
She should, Emma supposed grimly, be grateful that Regina hadn't destroyed the enchantments on  _ all  _ of her weapons. She'd inspected them as soon as she'd gotten outside, the last glow of the setting sun gleaming off the metal. They didn't seem to have suffered any ill effects, and apart from the one gun clip now in Regina's possession, everything was still there. It was but the work of a moment to grab her satchel from the truck of her car, slide everything easily into its place, and then shut everything in the passenger seat of her car.   
  
She glanced a little nervously at the sun, now sunk almost entirely past the horizon. This felt like an incredibly stupid thing to be doing. Putting her weapons  _ away  _ at night. In a town full of vampires. About to head back into a house with a witch and a ...Sunwalker, if said witch was to be believed. She pulled her two knives out, holding them thoughtfully in her hands. She shut the door with her rear, considering the knives. She knew she couldn't risk having her guns on her person in Regina's house again. But she certainly didn't want to be left completely vulnerable, either. Not when she knew the other woman was a witch. It made her even more anxious to leave this damn place.   
  
Though... Henry. She still didn't know what to do about Henry. She couldn't just leave him here. But Regina was another problem.   
  
She didn't get much of a chance to deliberate over it. The sun dipped. The town fell into darkness.   
  
She was conscious of their presence only milliseconds before she was surrounded, only giving her enough time to shift the knives in her hands and stand in the most defensive position she could, back to her car. Her car with her guns inside it. Damnit!   
  
The blurs of motion she was so accustomed to settled into maybe a dozen humanish shapes all around her. Skin pale and slightly glistening; mouths red with bloodlust. Fangs that could not be hidden. As opposed to Henry's, apparently. Though not all of them were vampires. Here and there were flashes of normal skin, eyes that flashed with yellow. Werewolves. Three of them, at least. And nine vamps.   
  
She'd faced worse odds before, though not without her guns. The townspeople of Storybrooke had her surrounded. Not, apparently, content to simply let her leave.   
  
“That's her,” said the werewolf Graham. The circle tightened.   
  
Eyes never staying in one place for long, Emma sighed. “I get it!” she growled out at the crowd around her. And at Graham. “I'm leaving. Right now. I'm gathering my things and I'm leaving.”   
  
There was a shift in the ranks, another whoosh of motion too fast to see as a vampire stepped forward. An eyebrow raised. “You're not,” she said simply. “You won't be leaving here at all, Hunter.”   
  
Emma's teeth ground together. Her foot shifted, putting her weight on the balls of her feet. “Do you seriously want to do this now?” she hissed at the vampire. A pixie-cut brunette. Emma's knives raised defensively, arms crossed and eyes always moving.   
  
Hands raising, t he vampire came closer. Emma lashed out with the knife without a thought, slicing a long gash into the shoulder. Right through the pink cardigan it was wearing.   
  
Shrieking as silver cut through her skin, the vamp fell backward, clutching at her smoking arm with wide eyes. The others didn't move, staring at the injured vamp with what looked like shock in their eyes. “Mary Margaret!” Another brunette, long hair streaked with red, rushed forward to hold the injured vamp. She growled furiously at Emma, yellow eyes glaring into her. And it was as the werewolf was tending to the already healing cut of a vampire that Emma made her first discovery about the inhabitants of Storybrooke.   
  
They were soft. Unused to fighting. So why the hell were they attacking her? She swallowed, unable to worry about it now. Around her, the vamps were eying her, as if deciding on how best to strike. Vampires were not pack hunters. Wolves, however....   
  
A blur out of the corner of her eye, and the long-haired brunette turned to her. Enraged and snarling, she threw back a red coat that had lain draped over her shoulders. Fur bristled into being over her skin, and her head threw back in a howl. From the other side of her, another wolf, already fully turned, burst through the ranks of the crowd. This one grey as opposed to the other's black. Gaining in confidence, the vampire she'd struck seemed to get over her injury, and turned back with a snarl. Emma had to fight back a groan. She looked down at her knives in disgust. “I hate knives,” she muttered to herself. And then everyone, wolves and vamps alike, charged her.   
  
Raising the woefully inadequate weapons, Emma struck out with one on each side, slicing through skin and fur alike. Blood, thick and sluggish, sprayed from the path of silver blades. None of her blows managed to be fatal, but she had no doubt that they hurt a hell of a lot. Howls of pain mixed with snarls of battle, but the Hunter paid them no mind, already onto the next threat.   
  
She was just about to go after the pixie-cut vamp again when the energy around them dramatically shifted.   
  
“Enough!”   
  
The sounds all abruptly ceased. Emma found herself unable to move, her knives frozen in place in her hands. The crowd flew backwards, falling back of a volition not their own and leaving a clear path from the house to the blonde. All three wolves shifted back into human form at once, startled whimpers escaping and muzzles receding into lips.   
  
The sound returned, but the citizens of Storybrooke stayed silent of their own volition, hands clasped around various wounds. Mouths clicked shut, once more hiding the fangs they could not retract.   
  
Heels clicked on brick, and Emma knew who had pushed them back. “What the hell is all this?” the mayor asked, her voice only a little quieter now that everyone else had ceased talking.   
  
The knives clattered from her hands, falling to the ground. And then Emma could suddenly move again. She watched with wary eyes as the mayor calmly and confidently walked through the parting waves of her people, coming to a halt directly in front of the blonde. Her eyes were blazing, once again completely black. Her face was pale with her fury. “What have you done?”   
  
Emma felt her blood freeze in her veins, staring at the mayor in wordless shock and fear.   
  
Beneath Regina's curled upper lip protruded a perfect set of barbed, glistening fangs.   
  
  
Emma's mouth had fallen open uselessly. Her blood was pounding in her ears, her mind reeling with the impossibilities before her.   
  
Regina was staring down at Emma imperiously. When the blonde seemed unable to answer, she whirled on those around her, demanding from the healing vampires and wolves. “Well?!”   
  
It was the pixie-cut brunette who finally spoke up, her fingers finally leaving the edges of a mostly-healed slash. “A misunderstanding, I- I think.” Her voice was hesitant, eyes shifting from Emma to the mayor. “We just came to... well, to-” she cleared her throat, and started again, pulling what appeared to be a contract from a folder tucked inside her cardigan. “A Claim has been made, your majesty.”   
  
The mayor's mouth fell open in surprise. She looked at Emma, and then back at the other vampire- Mary Margaret, Emma recalled the werewolf calling her. “You cannot be serious,” Regina almost laughed. “She's barely been in town for one evening! Who the hell could have Claimed her?”   
  
From behind Regina, a quiet voice perked up. “...I did, Mom.” All eyes turned to fall on the form of Henry, standing just outside the door with Graham at his side. The wolf had obviously gone to get him.   
  
Regina gaped at her son. “What?!”   
  
And at the same time, from Emma: “What?!” She stepped close to Henry, catching a glare from Regina while doing so, but didn't stop.   
  
Another vampire stepped forward, and Emma recognized him as one that had manned the gate with Graham the previous evening. “Last evening, I heard Henry very clearly state that Emma Swan was his. When Sheriff Graham asked for assent, she agreed.” He turned to Emma. “That is what happened, isn't it?”   
  
Emma thought back to the scene at the gate.  _ 'You're Henry's?'  _ Graham had said. She'd thought at the time he'd trailed off. But if her hadn't.... her own response:  _ 'Yeah, I'm his....' _ She'd meant to say 'I'm his birth-mother,' but she realized with wide eyes that she'd stopped. She'd never finished the statement, and in that sense.... “Holy shit,” she breathed aloud, quietly.   
  
The mayor had approached the vampire now, and was shaking her head. “That doesn't mean-”   
  
“The Claim was made,” a blonde woman suddenly interjected. Her eyes were human. Her teeth without points. In her hand, a long staff of wood with an impressive ball on the tip.  _ Witch,  _ Emma told herself quietly.   
  
This new blonde smiled and actually dared to attempt to stare Regina down. “Heard and witnessed, by a representative of both werewolf and vampire, as required.”   
  
Regina bristled, stepping forward until there was absolutely no room between herself and the other witch. “Don't dare cite the Edict to me, Maleficent,” she spat. “I was there when it was signed.”   
  
“Then you above all should know it, Your Majesty,” replied 'Maleficent.' She dipped her head in apparent respect. Or a mockery of.   
  
While Regina's attention was elsewhere, the female vampire with the pixie-cut, Mary Margaret, knelt on the ground next to Henry. She smiled at him gently, offering the contract to him. “Henry,” she began. “Do you renounce the Claim?”   
  
The boy shook his head quickly. “No,” he answered. Before anyone could stop him, he'd grabbed the pen and signed his name in big, blocky letters, to the bottom of the form.   
  
“No!” Regina cried, racing to him faster than anything Emma had ever seen. But his name was already on the paper. She knelt before her son, taking him into her arms as if to shield him from whatever was going on. “He's eight!” Regina shouted, her voice growing a bit hysterical.   
  
“The age of the vampire is irrelevant, your  _ majesty. _ The Claim is valid.” Maleficent again.   
  
Emma had had just about enough of all this. Without another word, she just started banging on the hood of her car, trying to get everyone to shut up. She was confused, and still surrounded by vamps, and still without her guns. Everyone fell silent. “Would someone like to tell me what the hell is going on?”   
  
“Henry's claimed you as his human, Miss Swan.” Graham offered helpfully.   
  
Mary Margaret offered her the contract, and she took it with a wary glance.   
  
“You can, of course, renounce it, Miss Swan,” Regina offered quickly. Too quickly. “And return home.”   
  
None of the words seemed to make any sense. She was too keyed up from the fight and then seeing Regina and... she glanced at Mary Margaret in realization. “You were trying to hand me the contract when I-” the brunette nodded. “Sorry. But you said I wouldn't be leaving town.” She glanced down at the paper, skimming over it as much as she could. She gave up. It was all in legal-eze anyway. “If I renounce this 'claim'... will I see Henry again?”   
  
Mary Margaret spoke up before Regina had a chance to. “You'll be expelled from town.”   
  
“Then.... I don't renounce it.” Before she could think better of it, she snatched the pen and signed her name, too. She didn't know the full ramifications of being 'claimed,' but if it meant she could keep seeing Henry, that was good enough for her.   
  
A hushed silence, and the paper almost seemed to glow. It lifted out of Emma's hands and floated its way over to the grinning Maleficent. “It is done, then,” she grinned, being careful not to touch the paper as it rolled and then put itself in a bag she was holding. “Congratulations, Henry. Miss Swan.” The smile widened considerably, and fell upon the mayor. “Your Majesty.”   
  
The assembled mass slowly began to applaud. Emma kept close to Henry, still confused. The kid was beaming at her.   
  
Regina looked as if she was about to explode. Sure enough, the nearest streetlight suddenly burst in a shower of sparks and broken glass. Everyone stopped their hesitant clapping, startled. The mayor closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and slowly exhaled. “Right,” she said quietly. Her eyes opened again, returned, Emma noted, to their normal brown. When she spoke, her fangs were gone as well. “Well, then. Since we're apparently finished here, if you'll excuse us now, please. Everyone.” She glared pointedly at Maleficent. “I'm sure you have to file that?”   
  
“Gladly.” She turned, and a mass of smoke gushed out from her flowing, purple dress. In seconds, she was gone.   
  
Regina took another breath, and glanced at the rest of the amassed citizenry. “Good evening, then, everyone,” she forced a smile, and turned back towards her house.   
  
She shot a glance at Henry and his birthmother, pausing mid-stride. “Inside,” she spoke through clenched teeth. Nodding, Henry moved to comply, starting to head into the house without a word. Regina's gaze fell on Emma. “Both of you,” she growled.   
  
Wary and taking a moment to swallow the lump that was suddenly in her throat, Emma nodded, and followed her son into the house. Regina entered shortly thereafter, making sure that everyone else was leaving before she closed the door.   
  
Henry tugged on Emma's sleeve, and smiled, giving her a big hug. Awkward, Emma allowed it, patting his back while keeping her eyes glued to the mayor.   
  
She remained facing the door, as if unsure if she could keep from strangling something if she looked at them. When she finally spoke, Regina's voice was forced into quietness, edged with steel. She turned around slowly.   
  
“Do either of you have  _ any _ idea what you've just done?”

 

 


	4. You Might Think it's Nice Being all Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Emma learns the consequences of singing papers without reading them first.

**Chapter IV** **  
** **  
  
  
**Silence. **  
  
** **“** Well?” Regina's eyes shot back and forwards between both Henry and his birth-mother. Like as not, she probably had every urge to rip something apart right now. Or someone. Emma honestly thought it odd that she hadn't done so yet. That's what vampires did. And she knew she hadn't imagined those fangs on the mayor, despite the fact that they were gone now. **  
  
**She just stared at the witch... vampire... queen... whatever the hell she was with wide eyes, brain furiously trying to process everything that had happened since her kid had shown up on her door and torn her world apart. “No,” she finally said, squaring her shoulders before crossing her arms over her chest. She met Regina's eyes, and was not fazed when they practically burned into her own. “Suppose you tell me?” **  
  
**Regina wasn't even looking at her any longer. From the moment she'd said 'no,' the mayor had scoffed and turned her attention to the eight-year-old currently half-hiding behind his birth-mother. “Henry.” **  
  
**Unable to bear the scrutiny, he looked away, and then down, half-mumbling an answer over his fangs. “I made Emma have to stay?” Even muttered and spoken into his chest, he didn't sound entirely opposed to the idea. **  
  
**Emma felt her mouth drop open. “What?” **  
  
**Giving out an exasperated sigh, Regina just shook her head, and promptly ignored the blonde. She knelt down before her son so that she was at his eye-level. Like she'd completely forgotten Emma existed, or was trying really, really hard to do so. “It isn't that Miss Swan has to stay... it's that she cannot leave. Do you understand the difference?” **  
  
**Henry shook his head. **  
  
** **“** Henry, you've taken away her choices. And remember, our choices are what define us-” **  
  
** **“** -As people and not monsters,” Henry finished with her. For the first time, Regina looked away from her son, glaring up at Emma with a pointed look as they finished speaking together. **  
  
**Henry didn't notice the glare, still looking at his mother with a slightly confused expression. “So Claiming Emma without asking her about it first is like how I'm not supposed to bite someone without their permission because it's rude and they wouldn't like it?” **  
  
**Nodding, Regina gave him a tiny smile, and slid a bit of his ever-unruly hair back into place. “Exactly, dear.” **  
  
**He looked a bit like he understood, but glanced up at Emma with big eyes. “But you want to stay here with me, don't you, Emma?” **  
  
** **“** I-I.... wait, what?” Feeling like her brain was about three steps behind, the Hunter could only just get the words out. But no amount of confusion could keep from noticing the pained expression on Henry's face when she didn't immediately answer in the affirmative. “...Of course I do, Henry!” she continued quickly. **  
  
**But the damage was done, and her son only looked at her with hurt in his eyes. **  
  
**Regina glared at her, furious that anyone would dare to put that expression on Henry's face. She gave her son an affectionate pat on the shoulder, turning his attention back to her. “Henry? You need to go get ready for school. We'll talk more when you get back, okay?” **  
  
** **“** School?” Emma echoed. She hadn't stopped to consider normal things like school. **  
  
**Henry stopped looking hurt just long enough to roll his eyes. “Duh. I'm eight.” The boy offered a brave smile, and Regina pulled him into a hug. It was fiercely returned before Henry broke away and headed up the stairs, throwing Emma a small smile over his shoulder before he vanished from view. **  
  
**Regina rose from the floor in a single fluid gesture, all the warmth and tenderness gone from her. Henry had taken it with him when he left. “Miss Swan? A word in my study. Now.” Her heels clicked quickly over the floors, headed towards a room Emma was beginning to dread. **  
  
**But she followed anyway, her own ire building every moment that her questions went unanswered. Chief among them was what the hell Regina was. Though she had a guess. “So...” Emma began quietly as they walked, her voice hesitant. “...You're a Sunwalker too.” **  
  
** **“** Your powers of observation remain astounding, Miss Swan,” Regina spat, holding the door open for her. **  
  
**A shiver went down Emma's spine. At least that explained why Regina felt she was so... qualified, with Henry. And it also explained how Regina was able to be both a witch and a vampire. Ordinary vampires, of course, could not wield magic, as it was all fueled from the sun. But if Regina was able to walk around in the sun as she'd hinted Henry would eventually be able to do without injury.... Well, it was certainly an explanation. She walked through the door, Regina hot on her heels. **  
  
**The mayor was on her as soon as the door closed, arms on her shoulders and slamming her against the nearest wall before Emma could even finish the thought in her head. Just as Emma had done to her earlier. Emma winced at the suddenness of it, a hiss escaping through clenched teeth as Regina pressed her harder into the wall. The mayor's fangs were extended again, forcing Emma to freeze as soon as she noticed. Sunwalker or vampire or whatever, being this close to anyone's fangs was unnerving, to say the least. **  
  
** **“** I'll be blunt,” the mayor spat, digging her fingernails into Emma's shoulders. **  
  
**Fighting had always been a way to get her to refocus. Despite her grimace of pain, Emma actually felt whatever sluggishness had been clouding her head retreat a little. This was familiar; this she could do. “Shouldn't be hard for you,” Emma growled, secretly proud that she was able to think of any kind of comeback. It was about all she could do at the moment. Weaponless at night against a witch/Sunwalker... _thing,_ whatever Regina was. **  
  
**She, of course, only snarled all the more, leaning dangerously close. Closer, really, than anything with fangs had ever gotten to Emma, save once. “I don't want you here,” said the mayor. And it was the understatement of the year. “But since I seem to be stuck with you, let's get one thing absolutely clear: Henry is my son and my life. Claimed or not, if you ever hurt him, I will not hesitate to rip out your throat. Understand?” **  
  
**It was Emma's turn to snarl, and, with a glare, she shoved her arms up through Regina's grasp, and thrust the other woman away enough to slap her. Hard. “I would never hurt Henry!” She'd only known the kid for a day, during most of which he'd been asleep. And she was still coming to grips with what he was, but, dammit, he was her son. The son who had been forcibly ripped from her arms, and who she had spent the last eight years mourning and avenging. **  
  
**Regina didn't reel away from the slap. Didn't so much as raise a hand when a tiny hint of blood emerged from her split lip. Emma found that hard to believe; most vampires she'd known had been unable to resist blood in the air. But perhaps it was different when it was your own. **  
  
**Regina raised an eyebrow, giving the blonde a once over before releasing her. The cut on her lip was already healing. “You just did hurt him, dear. See that it doesn't happen again.” There was an air of finality about the mayor. Without another word, she stepped back and left the study. **  
  
**Leaving Emma slightly stunned and stifling a swallow behind her, knowing Regina was right. But still incredibly confused. “Wait!” she ordered as she left the study and ran after the mayor. “Look, I didn't mean to hurt Henry. But this is all very, very new for me. I've never been Claimed before. I don't know what it means, and I need you to explain this to me. Now.” She threw the mayor's earlier demand back at her, hoping it would have the same effect. Regina stopped walking and turned to glare daggers at her, so that was a good sign. “What do you mean you're stuck with me? What do you mean I can't leave?” **  
  
**The mayor's hands were busying themselves over a briefcase, placing a small sheaf of papers within it while simultaneously rifling through a few others. The gaze she cast over the blonde was both condescending and disgusted. “A Claim is a binding contract, Miss Swan. Completely legal and, unless renounced by those who make it, regrettably unbreakable.” **  
  
** **“** But what the hell does it mean?!” **  
  
**The mayor looked at her like she was incredibly slow-witted, head tilting slightly to the side in disbelief. She breathed out deeply through her nose. Somewhere in the back of her head, Emma wondered why, since as a vampire she didn't need to breathe. “We have several pamphlets on Claiming available at the bed and breakfast, the diner, or my office. You're welcome to pick one up.” Finding the paper she wanted and ensuring it was in an easy spot to find later, she snapped the briefcase closed. “But to put it simply for you: it means that we own you now, dear.” **  
  
**The world seemed to fall into slow motion. “You what?” **  
  
**Regina sighed. Again. “If you’d bothered to read the contract before just signing it like an idiot, you'd discover that you've signed your life over to become Henry's human, Miss Swan. You belong to him now.” **  
  
**It took everything Emma had to resist the urge to retch. Instead, she doubled over in a coughing fit, as if all the air had literally just been sucked out of her lungs. Regina just rolled her eyes and swept past her, moving to the bottom of the stairs. **  
  
** **“** Henry!” she called. “Hurry up, dear!” **  
  
** **“** Just a minute, Mom!” he answered back, and a series of rumbling footsteps could be heard as he finished getting his things. **  
  
**Finally getting her breath back, Emma reached out a hand to snatch at Regina's pant leg as she moved from the stairs. The mayor avoided her, continuing to ignore the wheezing blonde as she moved to stand in front of her mirror. **  
  
** **“** Why the hell would anyone willingly agree to 'belong' to a vampire?!” **  
  
**Barely even bothering to look at her, the mayor just sighed and fluffed her hair in front of her mirror. “Every human of consenting age in this town is Claimed, Miss Swan. I suggest you ask one of them.” **  
  
**Getting back to her feet, Emma growled at her, tempted to spin the mayor around again to face her. She was stopped by Henry's clumping footsteps drawing nearer to the head of the steps. “Thanks for the advice, 'your majesty.'” Emma snarled, relieved to be able to breathe again. “And seriously, what the hell was that about?” At this point, it was easier for her brain to change the subject. She'd get back to the whole 'Henry now owned her thing' later. Maybe after some coffee. Or alcohol. Or both. **  
  
** **“** Mom's the Queen!” Henry piped up helpfully as he bounded down the stairs towards the door. **  
  
** **“** Don't run in the house, Henry,” Regina replied automatically, stepping forward to straighten the lapels of her son's coat. **  
  
**An eyebrow raised as Emma glanced down at her kid. “Queen of what?” But she had a feeling she already knew. When a group of vampires lived together, it was always called a hive. And all hives, of bees or wasps or vampires, always had queens. They were the hardest to kill, if only because the other vampires would die protecting her. She'd taken out a few hives over the years, barely. Emma felt her throat close in on itself again, staring at Regina with even more horror than she had before. And a tiny, tiny bit of respect. Maybe. **  
  
**In a look she was sure had come from Regina, Henry just stared at her like she should already know. “The vampires,” he confirmed. **  
  
**Her head shot back up towards Regina. “...I thought you were the mayor.” **  
  
**Regina was inspecting her fingernails. Whether just in indifference or because she feared she'd chipped one or something while throwing Emma around the study, she didn't know. “Indeed, Miss Swan,” she said coolly. “Mayor of the town, Queen of the vampires in the town, Pack Adviser to the werewolves and High Priestess of the witches. All of which means that after I get Henry to school, I have a very busy evening ahead of me and no further time to waste on you.” **  
  
** **“** Bye, Emma!” **  
  
** **“** Wait! What am I supposed to do?” **  
  
**Regina froze halfway out the door, took a deep breath, and then looked at her son. “Henry. Your human is asking for instruction.” **  
  
** **“** Oh,” Henry blinked. And then burst into a grin, turning to face Emma excitedly. “Oh! Um... be here when school's over? Please?” Henry glanced at his mother for approval, and she raised an eyebrow, expecting more. “And... please don't leave town because the walls are turned on. Oh! And please don't kill anyone!” This time, Regina nodded, and together they left the house. **  
  
** **“** Hey-!” Emma protested, intent on following behind both of them even if it meant tailing them in her bug. But before she could even shout again Regina had grabbed Henry's hand and they sped off into the night faster than she could see, only a faint 'whoosh' and a familiar blur of motion betraying the fact that they'd been there at all. Taking a deep breath, Emma only stared after them, and then her knees gave out on her. **  
  
**She didn't bother getting up. Not for a long time. This was all a bit too much. She was a Hunter. It was her job and her mission to seek and destroy vampires and werewolves and any other damn thing that killed and hurt other humans. And she was good. She was damn good. There had never been a witch, werewolf or vampire she'd targeted who had gotten away from her. Even the one who’d taken Henry. **  
  
**And now she was in a town full of vamps and werewolves. In a house owned by the vampire Queen, of all things. Who was also the mother of her son. Sort of. And now her son... owned her. How that even made sense, she had no idea. Emma raised a hand to her head, as if that would somehow stop its spinning. Her stomach growled loudly, interrupting her fevered, dizzying thoughts. And it was only then that she realized she hadn't actually eaten anything since her breakfast the previous evening. Food. Food would definitely help. Regina... and a shiver went down her spine just thinking about that woman, now... but she'd mentioned a diner. **  
  
**Diners were good. Hopefully it wouldn't even be that hard to find. Storybrooke couldn't be that big, if the town was gated. **  
  
**Being in her car was instantly grounding, just by itself. The familiarity of it was incredibly welcome. As was the nearly-forgotten satchel of her weapons, still on the passenger seat where she'd left them. She put a pair of pistols into the holsters at her back, and instantly felt more secure. It was, after all, still evening. And no matter how strenuous Regina said the laws against attacking other citizens were, Emma couldn't afford to take the risk. **  
  
**The diner was as easy to find as she'd hoped. And empty. Which was honestly a relief. She didn't need any pixie-cut vampires looking for vengeance for harm done to pink cardigans. Maybe after she'd eaten, she thought with an actual grin. She could use a good fight to blow off some steam. **  
  
**The waitress, when she noticed Emma's presence, looked as though she might be happy to accommodate. She stalked over with a snarl, and Emma automatically reached for her gun when she got close enough to recognize. It was the brunette with the red-streaked hair. The werewolf. “What do you want?” **  
  
** **“**...Breakfast?” she suggested. Like the various safe havens Hunters had stashed around the country, this whole town looked like it operated on nighttime hours. Like she did. So hopefully breakfast at this hour wasn’t an impossibility. **  
  
**The wolf glared at her, but did get out her pencil and pad. “We stop serving breakfast at 9:30,” she snarked. **  
  
**Emma glanced at the clock on the wall behind her. “It's 9:20.” **  
  
** **“** So?” **  
  
**A bustle from the direction of the kitchen, and an older-looking woman popped her head out into view. “Ruby!” she chastised. “Just take her order!” **  
  
**Ruby glared at the new woman, the 'Granny' of the diner, Emma assumed, and gestured to Emma accusingly. “Granny, this is the Hunter that cut Mary Margaret! She nearly cut me!” **  
  
** **“** You should be grateful she didn't take your head!” Granny snapped. Emma felt herself almost smiling. “Honestly. Charging a Hunter who had no idea what was going on.” She shook her head in additional chastisement, and if Ruby had currently been a wolf, Emma was sure her ears and tail would have drooped. **  
  
** **“** But-!” **  
  
**Granny wasn't having it. “Go mind the kitchen, Ruby. I'll take her order.” Growling a bit angrily, Ruby nevertheless stomped off, shooting Emma a yellow glare as she did so. **  
  
**Watching her go with a shake of her head, Granny just sighed, then turned to Emma. “The mayor said you'd probably stop by. She asked me to make sure you got these.” The older woman handed her a neat stack of about a dozen different pamphlets. **  
  
**Emma took them with a raised eyebrow, setting them down on the table beside her. Apparently, Regina had known she'd come here. That was kind of unsettling. “Uh... thanks,” Emma said, shaking her head. She'd worry about the mayor/Queen later. She glanced in the direction of the kitchen and the angry wolf she knew was behind it. “Look... can you....” she sighed again. “It did look like they were all attacking me and I-” **  
  
**Granny waved her off, and a faint yellow glow made itself known behind her eyes. Emma's posture straightened, eying the newly-recognized werewolf a little more warily. But Granny only smiled genuinely. “Don't worry about it,” she said chipperly. “There's a lot of hotheads among the younger wolves and vamps. They’re a good bunch, though. It was an easy misunderstanding.” Her gaze slipped down to Emma's back and she squared her shoulders. “Though I do have to ask you not bring weapons into my diner next time, okay?” **  
  
**Despite being a wolf, the Hunter found herself almost instantly liking this woman. With a small smile, Emma eased her hands back to her guns, unholstered them, and placed them on the table. “...You're being awfully understanding about all this.” **  
  
** **“** I was a Hunter myself, a long, long time ago. Before the bite.” She raised an arm, lifting the sleeve of her shirt high enough to show Emma the long, wicked-looking scar on her forearm. Werewolf teeth marks. Emma blanched a bit. Granny shrugged. “But this is a good town: good people, good wolves, good vamps. You don't need to Hunt them.” **  
  
**Hand subconsciously reaching for her neck and idly rubbing the scar from her own bite, Emma gave a sigh. “Coming here wasn't my idea,” she muttered. **  
  
** **“** So I heard. But you're here now anyway, hmm? Just enjoy it.” **  
  
**Emma only blinked, and looked a little sullen. **  
  
**In very short time, her mood was much improved as she contentedly made her way through four scrambled eggs with cheese, hash browns, two orders of french toast, three pancakes, bacon, sausage, biscuits with butter and raspberry jam, coffee and an enormous glass of orange juice. And though it probably took her several hours to do so (she wasn't exactly keeping track of time), she ate and ate until nothing remained. She'd been very, very hungry. **  
  
**Finally appeased, she decided it was about time to turn her attention to the pamphlets Regina had had sent to her. Shaking her head, the blonde only numbly grabbed them and glanced at the groan-worthy titles straight out of a 1950s public safety announcement. She stared down at them like an idiot for a few long moments, and finally picked up the one that looked least annoying. “So, You've Accidentally Claimed a Human...” appeared promising at first but turned out to be more of a warning against overindulgence. On blood. Sickened, she quickly put that one on the bottom of the stack. It was joined in short order by “Being Claimed: Bloodletting and the Risks of Hepatitis D”, “Are There Supposed to be Fangs There? A Guide to Claiming,” and “101 Misconceptions about Being Claimed.” That last one had probably been the most helpful, but she really hadn't wanted to know how seventy-nine percent of all those Claimed begin developing sexual feelings towards their Claimers. **  
  
**Groaning again, she flopped her head down onto the table, banging it a few times in her frustration. She really wanted to go kill something. But apparently she'd been ordered not to. By her son, who now owned her. **  
  
**Every time she thought of the situation it galled her. Finally, after paying Granny and thanking her profusely, Emma decided it was time to go. Go where, she wasn't sure, but she guessed she may as well head back to the mayor's mansion. She gathered up her guns, slid them back into their holsters, and stood up. Henry had told her to be there when he got home, after all. And whatever else he was, he was still her son, and she didn’t want to disappoint him again. **  
  
**When she hesitantly opened the still-unlocked door and looked around, Henry, to her slight relief, wasn't there yet. But the hairs on the back of her neck rose, and she glanced around the interior of the house warily. One of the guns she’d forgotten to leave in the car was instantly in her hand. She wasn't alone. She heard a door swing open off to the side and, by the all-too-recognizable clicking of heels on the wooden floor, Regina's presence was announced long before she ran her eyes up and down Emma's form and gave a small huff through her nose. “You're back.” **  
  
**Emma rolled her eyes, and pulled the gun back. “Oh, look whose powers of observation work well,” she snarked. **  
  
** **“** I specifically remember asking you not to bring weapons into my house.” Regina’s eyes narrowed. A growl was rising in the back of her throat. **  
  
** **“** Well, I forgot. Bit of a double standard anyway, isn’t it? I mean, you practically _are_ a weapon, your majesty. And you did threaten to rip my throat out. How do I know I won’t need my guns?” **  
  
**Regina raised a hand, curling her fingers slowly. The guns ripped themselves out of Emma’s hands and back holster, flying towards the mayor. She stopped them in mid-air, looking at Emma with a smirk. “If I wanted to kill you, Miss Swan,” she almost mocked, “you may rest assured you’d be dead.” Regina's amusement at the idea was practically palpable. **  
  
**Fuming, Emma futily reached out a hand for her weapons, not even caring that she had to get in Regina’s personal space to do it. “All the more reason to keep my guns. And hey, if it bugs you so much, I’ll ask Henry about it,” she spat, rolling her eyes at Regina’s little game of keep-away and finally just putting her hands on her hips. “He’s the one who owns me, after all.” **  
  
** **“** Mmm,” Regina mused, twirling her finger slowly. The guns disappeared, reappearing, Emma hoped, in the interior of her car. She’d have demanded to know, of course, but was stopped by one of Regina’s hands now curling around the base of her throat. “Actually, I looked into that today.” She almost playfully ran the barest edge of her fingernails down Emma's cheek. The blonde flinched, but didn’t move, merely swallowing thickly and planning her next move. **  
  
**Regina continued with another smirk. “Henry's a minor, dear. Which means that until he comes of age, you belong to his legal guardian.” There was an audible click as Regina's fangs slid back into prominence from where they'd been retracted. She smiled, and it was not pleasant. “So, actually... you're mine, Miss Swan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to killer-elephants/luthor, who, in addition to being my beta, also came up with all the pamphlet names.


	5. But Now I'm Feeling Kinda Warm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Emma badly needs to punch something.

 

**  
Chapter V**

 

Most people, Emma felt sure, would probably have been more than a little terrified to have a vampire Queen suddenly inches away from sinking her fangs into you. Most people, however, had probably not already survived a vampire attack. And most people had not spent the last eight years of their lives Hunting. And most people were not Emma Swan.

 

She simply got pissed off. Green eyes narrowed, blazing as she glared with full animosity at her son's adopted mother. “Enough,” she growled.

 

The grip wavered just a little, more out of surprise than anything else. Certainly not at any perceived threat. Regina blinked. “Excuse me?”

 

The moment of hesitation was all Emma needed. She lashed out with her legs, catching one of Regina's own and then twisting, forcing the brunette's balance to shift and then falter. “I said 'enough,'” Emma repeated.

 

A human would have been swept to the floor. Her reflexes faster, Regina only stumbled, releasing Emma's neck in a split second, falling to her knees and one outstretched hand and then righting herself again all in the blink of an eye.

 

But Emma felt accomplished anyway. She had, after all, been wanting a good fight all day. And while Regina certainly _could_ kill her, she doubted she would. Henry wanted her to still be here when he got home, after all.

 

When the dark-haired woman whirled on her, snarling with open mouth and bared fangs, the Hunter shot her arm out, gripping Regina's wrist and twisting her body weight to spin her, sending her slamming into the nearest wall. She knew she couldn't injure Regina enough to kill her, not with her bare hands. But she could definitely slow her down.

 

Pictures rattled with the force of the impact. And then again when Regina spun, pushed off from the surface, and came flying at her. Emma was ready, grabbing her arm with both of her hands, kicking the Queen in the stomach.

 

She went down, back to the floor. Not allowing the Queen a chance to regroup and come at her again, Emma straddled her, twisted her hands into the fine fabric of her shirt and jerked her head up only to slam it down into the floor. Hissing, Regina's hand shot upwards, landing over Emma's face. With a ruthless shove, she forced the Hunter up and away. Far away. Emma hit the wall opposite with a dull thud, landing about mid-way and then falling to the floor.

 

She got to her feet quickly enough, but the Queen was already on her again. Lacking in her speed and strength, Emma twisted, used Regina's momentum against her, and shoved the brunette back in the direction of the stairs. This was almost too easy.

 

She was right.

 

Regina's lips moved in silent spell-casting. Emma suddenly found that they'd swapped positions. Emma was now the one just hurled against the steps and the Queen advancing on her in a blur. "Well," she purred dangerously, "that was a pleasant diversion. But I think you're quite right, dear." She bent down, hovering above the prostrate woman on the stairs. "Enough."

 

Wincing, Emma struggled, kicking and swinging out with her arms only to find that they would not obey her commands. Eyes wide, she lay immobile on the steps. Regina's hand once again slipped around her neck. She swallowed. Took a breath. She was powerless. Again. Her eyes met the Queen's, who looked as though she was about to enjoy a very well-deserved snack. Emma spat at her, powerless but not cowed. “If you're going to bite me, then just do it.”

 

Regina blinked. And then nearly laughed, pulling away with a nasty grin. Or perhaps it was slightly disgusted; it was a bit hard to tell. “Why would I allow myself to be sullied with the likes of you?” Releasing the blonde with a final shove, she rose, smoothed out the wrinkles on her skirt, and turned away.

 

Stunned, it took Emma far too long speak, much less realize she could move again. “...What?” When she found herself able to move, several moments after, she pushed herself off the steps quickly, adopting a defensive pose. Just in case.

 

“Make no mistake, Miss Swan,” the mayor continued casually, straightening the cuffs of her blazer. “You're Claimed. I have the _right_ to feed on you whenever I wish.” She shot her a look, almost smirking. “And I don't need to pin you to my stairs to do it.”

 

Emma considered this, watching the brunette warily. “...You just want me intimidated.” Against all possible logic, the blonde actually reached and spun the brunette around again, baring her own teeth as she stared down the Queen. “I'm. Not. Intimidated.”

 

Regina's eyes moved over every inch of Emma's face, studying her. Her lips flared in irritation, but the fangs were no longer extended. Annoyed, she slammed Emma into the wall again with a flick of her wrist, making the blonde hiss as the back of her head caught the corner of an elaborate picture frame. “Do stop touching me, Miss Swan.”

 

“You said that before,” Emma managed to grunt, bringing a hand to the back of her head and wincing when it came away red. She was bleeding.

 

In obvious conflict to every other vampire Emma had ever known of, Regina didn't even appear to notice the blood, instead focusing her attention on straightening her hair. “You failed to listen,” she quipped. A little too stunned by the lack of bloodlust, Emma stayed silent, staring at the other woman's backside, so Regina went on. “I won't be drinking from you, dear. And neither will Henry. Despite your apparent desire to goad me, your pretty little neck is safe enough. If you keep instigating fights in my house, however, your head may not be.” She finally turned around, only then noticing Emma's expression. And the blood on her fingertips from her scalp. Her lips pursed in thought. “I see its already taken some damage.”

 

And that, really, was the very last of it. The last distortion to her perception of the world that Emma could take. She just stared. Her mind stopped processing completely, and she switched between staring at the blood on her hand and then at Regina. Almost unable, even, to remember to breathe. When need for oxygen finally cranked her mind again, she gasped it in, exhaling in a deep gush of air and barely formed the words: “What the hell are you?!”

 

Blinking, Regina's hands froze mid hair-fluff. “Excuse me?”

 

“Vampires don't just ignore blood! They don't just _decide_ they don't want it! We just fought! I'm bleeding! You're a fucking killing machine and you're just standing there ...annoyed that I've mussed your hair!”

 

Silence was Regina's only answer, blankly staring at Emma for several of the blonde's hammering heartbeats. And finally, the Queen simply expelled a quiet, perplexed hush of air. “...You truly don't understand, do you?” It was obvious she didn't expect an answer, but Emma bristled all the same. Before she could confront her on it, though, Regina had already given a sigh and a shake of her head. “Fortunately, I've already anticipated this.”

 

Emma was incredibly tired of being forced to give this woman a blank stare. But perhaps Regina was right in that she didn't understand. She certainly didn't know to what the other woman was referring.

 

“We're stuck with one another,” the mayor stated simply. “So you're going to have to understand how exactly Stroybrooke works. And, since the pamphlets obviously didn't help: Claiming. While I'd _love_ to show you-” her sarcasm was not lost on Emma, even befuddled as she was, “I simply don't have the time, dear.” And she turned away again, heading towards her front door and utterly dismissing Emma.

 

“Hey!” Emma shouted, pouncing and catching the mayor by the wrist. Regina glared at her, but it was the blonde's turn to cut her off. “You want me to stop touching you? Then stop walking away from me when I'm talking to you.”

 

Regina raised an eyebrow. “I was only going to get the door, Miss Swan.”

 

“Wha-” The doorbell rang. They both turned to look at it, Regina then turning back to Emma with a distinct look of 'See?' and then pulled away to answer it, mayoral smile firmly back in place as she did so.

 

And was instantly swept into a hug. With incredulity, Emma watched the mayor go stiff before awkwardly attempting to return it, lightly patting the owner of the overly-friendly arms before they finally lowered. Regina cleared her throat. “Thank you, dear.” She left it ambiguous as to whether the thanks was for the hug or for her presence, though Emma knew it was the latter.

 

Gesturing inside, Regina held the door for the guest, but gave no verbal permission. The other blonde entered freely, taking note of Emma's presence and flashing her a genuine smile. “You must be Emma,” she offered her hand. “The whole town is talking about you.” Regina grimaced at that, but the new blonde didn't seem to see it, still concentrating on Emma. And the fact that she had yet to shake her hand. She withdrew the offer slowly, as seamlessly and unawkwardly as she could. “...I'm Kathryn.”

 

Head still thumping a bit from the knock it had taken, Emma looked her over carefully. “You're... human?” None of the normal signs of anything else was present in this woman, but apparently that meant nothing, if Regina was any example of the inhabitants of this town.

 

Blinking, Kathryn just laughed a little, nodding. “Yes.”

 

Still bewildered, Emma glanced over at the mayor with an uncertain look. Regina only forced a tight smile. “As I was saying, Miss Swan: _I_ don't have the time to pander to your ignorance. Which is why Kathryn graciously volunteered. So now that you're introduced, I do have work to do.” She gave a nod to Kathryn, the closest thing she could get to gratitude. “I'll see you in the office tomorrow. Do be sure to thank Frederick for dropping you by so promptly, dear,” she smiled.

 

To Emma, she gave a puffed breath of exasperation, raising an admonishing finger. “Since I suppose you're my human now, Miss Swan... Continue to obey Henry's instructions. Specifically: don't kill anyone.” She smiled and then there was suddenly nothing but a blur of motion where she'd been.

 

Both blondes looked after her, but of course could see nothing. Kathryn just chuckled, shaking her head a bit in wonder. “I hate when they do that in the middle of a conversation,” she murmured, but the tone in her voice didn't sound like she hated it at all.

 

Emma glanced at her, then sighed, slumping against the door. Her head was killing her.

 

Giving her a moment, Kathryn stayed silent, allowing Emma to process things on her own time. When the other blonde finally looked her way again, she gave the Hunter another warm smile. “...This is all probably very shocking for you. I'm here to help, so if you have any questions I can answer or you need anyth-”

 

“Do you have an aspirin?”

 

Unthrown by being interrupted, Kathryn simply fished in her purse and produced a bottle. And a small bottle of water, which Emma accepted gratefully and promptly popped. She drank the water greedily and then sighed, resting her head on the back of the wall and glancing at the other blonde, running her eyes over her. Sizing her up. "How long is there before Henry gets back from school?” She doubted the other blonde would know, but she _was_ here to answer her questions, after all, so...

 

Kathryn checked her watch. “Two hours,” she answered.

 

Emma decided she could possibly like this woman. “Is there somewhere I can just go hit something?” Her fight with the mayor hadn't had the effect she'd really wanted.

 

The other woman didn't even bat an eye, just smiled and offered her hand to pull Emma up from the wall. “Absolutely.”

 

* * *

 

 

One completely decimated punching bag later, Emma felt much better. Breath heavy and cheeks red, the Hunter unwrapped her hands and sat down on a bench. Kathryn wordlessly handed her a towel and another bottle of water. As if this were a completely everyday occurrence for her.

 

"You're Regina's secretary, aren't you?" Emma hazarded a guess.

 

Kathryn laughed. "How could you tell?" Her eyes sparkled, and Emma knew she didn't actually have to answer that question. They stayed silent for a long while, until Kathryn finally checked her watch again and mentioned that they should head back to the mansion if she wanted to be there for Henry.

 

Kathryn had driven to the gym, so as they got into the car, Emma just looked out the window. And drank from the bottle of water. “Thanks,” she muttered. Whether it was for the water, taking her to the gym, driving her back, or all of the above, Emma really wasn't sure.

 

The other blonde only nodded in return, and they lapsed into silence. Awkward silence, at least for Emma. She took a deep breath, glancing around slowly and set the bottle of water down in the cup holder. “...So... that's a nice gym,” she offered. Awkward. But Kathryn was here to answer questions, right? She might as well try to talk to her.

 

“Thank you. Frederick runs it.”

 

Emma frowned. She'd heard that name. Regina had said it just before running off. “And Frederick is-”

 

“My claimer,” she answered with a gentle smile.

 

“Right,” the Hunter sighed and had the passing thought to wonder if Kathryn was in the seventy-nine percentile range the pamphlet had mentioned. And then really, really wished she hadn't wondered that. She wanted to scrub at her face with the towel again, but it had been left at the gym. The vampire's gym. Emma almost wanted to scream. Instead, she sighed and finally just decided to start asking questions. “...Look, I don't want to be rude; you seem really nice, but why the hell would anyone want to be _owned_ by a vampire? It seems-” she trailed off and hoped that the other blonde would understand the question and not be offended. She kind of liked Kathryn, a little.

 

The other blonde understood and did not appear to take offense. “There's a lot of different reasons. Regina said you probably don't know what Claiming really is?” Emma didn't answer verbally, but Kathryn seemed to understand. Her face was not unkind as she explained. “The first thing to understand is that Claiming is very, very old. As old as vampires themselves. It's mentioned in the very earliest of the Edicts....”

 

A glazed, sour look passed over Emma's face. She'd never been one for much history. The present was bad, the future gloomy. Why would the past be any different? Her own had sucked.

 

Kathryn, seeing the look, veered off her train of thought with another soft smile. “...Sorry, I've spent a lot of time studying the Edicts,” she offered and returned to the subject at hand. “Anyway, Claiming is about far more than being 'owned'. I hate that term, by the way.” She pulled a face and gave a playful little shudder. “It's a way for vampires to have a readily available and willing food source, and for their humans to be protected.”

 

“'Protected?!” Emma's incredulity was obvious even without the rise in volume. “You get savagely bitten on a regular basis and your blood drained out of you and you honestly expect me to believe it's done to protect you?!”

 

Again, the other blonde didn't seem to be offended. Probably why Regina had chosen her for this task. Her voice was still just as pleasant as she explained. “Once you're Claimed, no other vampire can bite you, except for your claimer.”

 

Scoffing, Emma couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of vampires actually obeying any kind of rules. Or Edicts, whatever. “Why, because it's rude? Please.”

 

Kathryn shook her head. “No, it's more than just manners: it's a biological imperative. Vampires are _physically_ incapable of biting a Claimed human. It's on the same sort of wavelength as obeying the orders of the one who made them, or protecting their Queen. ...Regina can probably explain that part a bit better than I can.”

 

The Hunter fought the urge to laugh, sure that the other blonde was just pulling her leg. Or exaggerating. But when Kathryn's face remained earnest, and when she realized that she sensed no lie from the other woman, her eyebrows raised. “...You're serious.”

 

“Completely. I've seen it. I was about to be bitten and then the vampire just... stopped.”

 

Pausing to take another drink from the bottle of water, Emma allowed her brain to process this. Highly doubtful as it was. “That's... convenient. So all the vampires in the world can't bite me because I've signed a little piece of paper? Forgive me if I find that hard to believe.”

 

Shaking her head, Kathryn looked a little amused. “The Claim is more than a piece of paper. It's a magical contract, completely unbreakable. That's why a magic user has to be present at a signing. It's why werewolves need to witness when a Claim is made. It's sacrosanct.”

 

“...So why am I only just hearing about this now? What's so special about Storybrooke?”

 

“Regina.” There was a certain amount of awe in the way Kathryn said the mayor's name. Emma found it a bit unsettling. “Claiming has largely been forgotten, everywhere else. But she designed the town, and re-instituted it. It's all her doing.”

 

“What, so Storybrooke is some magical utopia where everyone joins hands and sings while drinking blood and baying at the moon? I don't think that's-”

 

It was the other blonde's turn to cut her off, which she did with a slightly apologetic smile. But Emma needed to hear what she had to say, and she needed to understand it. “Emma, I know how this all must seem to you, coming from outside. I know how the world is out there; I lived in it.” Her face grew darker at the memory. “My mother was taken when I was a child. Bitten right in front of me and my father, but she didn't turn; she just died. So I grew up like everyone else, huddled and scared of the dark for most of my life. Hating vampires and werewolves. Like you. I know how they are, out there. How all the ones I'm sure you've met have probably been. But they're not like that here.”

 

Watching her face as she spoke, Emma desperately wanted to interject. But there was such a genuineness to the way Kathryn spoke. Such earnestness, that she didn't want to interrupt. The other blonde wasn't lying to her.

 

“Here, almost every human here is Claimed, so there are no attacks. For those who don't have anyone Claimed, there's a completely voluntary rotation system for humans to donate blood. That's mostly for the younger vampires. And... Regina, of course.”

 

That caught Emma's attention. Practically set off alarm bells in her head. Regina had built the town, but hadn't actually claimed anyone herself? Well, besides her, apparently, but that didn't really count. It certainly seemed odd.

 

“There's no daylight government that ends at nightfall and the town doesn't just die and lock its doors once the sun goes down,” Kathryn continued. “Everyone runs the town together- businesses and restaurants and schools and everything. We run on all hours and everything runs smoothly. But she's worked it all out; the humans and werewolves and the vampires and the magic users... everything works together. It's very symbiotic.”

 

There were a great deal more questions that she felt like asking at that point. Finally, the one she settled on was: “How long has this been going on?”

 

“Nearly thirty years. But Storybrooke existed before that, in some form or other, for about two hundred.”

 

Emma blinked, and considered this. She swallowed, and realized what Kathryn was really saying. “...Regina's that old?”

 

Kathryn paused. For the first time, Emma seemed to have given her a question she was hesitant to answer. Finally, she gave a small sigh, and closed her eyes. “She's... much older, Emma.”

 

Now that she'd finally found something she probably wasn't supposed to know, Emma couldn't help but press. She placed an awkward hand on Kathryn's knee, trying to show she was trustworthy. Or hitting on her, if that would help. She offered a smile, the first directed at anyone who wasn't Henry or Granny since she'd come here. “...How old?”

 

The other blonde looked at the hand on her leg, then up at Emma, and finally back to the road. She swallowed before answering. “No one really knows; she's older than everyone else in town. But the rumor is that before she was born? 'Regina' did not yet mean 'Queen.'”

 

* * *

 

 

After insisting that Kathryn really didn't need to see her inside, Emma sat on the porch and put her head in her hands.

 

She felt more than heard the door open behind her. She didn't even look up, already knowing, somehow, that it was Regina. She sighed again.

 

The mayor gave a slight 'humph' of obvious disappointment. Maybe she'd been expecting Henry already? Emma didn't know. But she did hear the resigned timbre of the other woman's voice when she told her she could come in, if she chose.

 

Emma elected to stay on the porch, watching the sky. It was just beginning to get a faint glow around the horizon. The sun would be rising soon. She hoped Regina would just leave her alone. She didn't want to get into anything else right now. And she really didn't want to stick her foot in her mouth by asking how old the mayor actually was. Which she felt in danger of doing, and knew wouldn't be smart of her. She still didn't have her guns, after all. And her last little fight with the Queen hadn't ended well for her. Though she knew she'd probably be doing it again sometime anyway.

 

The mayor did not leave her alone. Of course. Instead she stood leaning against one of the pillars to her house. To Emma's shock, she actually almost seemed awkward. She covered it with a clearing of her throat and a disinterested-sounding: “Decidedly fewer questions, now, I hope, Miss Swan?”

 

She didn't even bother to hold back the laugh, this time. Emma was returning to the mansion with a much larger understanding about Storybrooke and Claiming, but she had no fewer questions. She shook her head. “Just more to take their places. Kathryn was helpful, though,” she added as an afterthought.

 

“I thought she would be.” It almost seemed like Regina had been expecting that answer. “Henry isn't home yet,” she observed flatly. “My schedule is thrown off a bit. Go ahead, then.”

 

Emma glanced over her shoulder at the other woman for the first time, puzzled. “Go ahead?”

 

The mayor raised an eyebrow, but didn't directly look at her. “Ask away, dear.”

 

The blonde looked back at the ground, and then leaned back on her elbows, stretching herself over the steps of the porch. She sighed. “What are you going to do with me?” It was actually one of the ones weighing most heavily on her right now.

 

“I'm sorry?”

 

“I can't leave. You won't kill me, because of Henry.” Emma stated simply, and looked up at the roof of the porch. “But I can't just sit around here all day. I'm a Hunter, and I obviously can't Hunt here.”

 

“No,” the mayor agreed with her. And it was one of the first of such an occurrence.

 

The blonde seemed to be checking things off in her head. “You have the right to feed from me-”

 

Regina smirked, and brushed a probably imaginary piece of lint off of her jacket. “I do.”

 

“-but you're not going to,” Emma continued as if she hadn't been interrupted.

 

“I'm not.” Regina was not going to answer that in more detail, Emma already knew. So she didn't ask.

 

She swallowed instead, feeling a bit ill at the next question. “And ...Henry-?” she could barely even ask it without her stomach lurching on her, threatening to spill the digested remains of her breakfast on Regina's walkway.

 

“I won't allow it,” Regina answered, just as simply. This time, Emma would have asked why. But Regina knew that, and so she just continued: “Beyond the fact that the thought of being bitten obviously distresses you, drinking directly from a living source dramatically slows a young vampire's aging. Repeated such drinking will stop it entirely. And I certainly wouldn't want to be eight years old for eternity.” She sighed, and actually bothered to look down at the blonde. Their eyes met for the first time. “Would you?”

 

There was a faint blur of motion over the horizon, finally stopping just in front of the walkway to the house. It slowed to reveal Henry, being guided back to his house by his teacher.

 

Emma rose to her feet. Regina whooshed forward, meeting her son at the gate and ushering him onto her property. Henry beamed up at her, and then turned back to his vampire escort. “Bye, Miss Blanchard!” Henry waved, “See you in the evening!"

 

Falling on the pixie-cut brunette, Emma's eyes narrowed. “You... you're Henry's teacher?”


	6. Should Have Known Better than to Want to be Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which all hell breaks loose. 
> 
> Or, Resident Evil: Storybrooke Edition.

 

**Chapter VI**

 

 

* * *

 

Mary Margaret, of course, did not cross the threshold onto Regina's property. She didn't have permission. The schoolteacher, instead, remained standing just outside the gate that led up to the house, looking decidedly sheepish, for a vampire. “Um... yes. Hi. I'm ...Mary Margaret. We never officially met.” She extended her hand over the gate for Emma to shake.

 

With a roll of her eyes and a light touch to Henry's shoulder, Regina escorted her son up the pathway and inside, leaving Emma to deal with Henry's teacher on her own. Emma turned to watch them leave, disbelieving. And fighting the niggling voice that said she'd been abandoned. She didn't need Regina or Henry to fight her battles with her, she told it. She'd always been fine on her own. Even if this was an... unusual battle. When the door clicked behind mother and son, she managed to completely ignore the offered hand as she'd done to Kathryn earlier.

 

“Emma,” she muttered to the brunette and gave a sigh. She couldn't believe she was about to do this. “...Sorry for slicing your arm.” Apologizing to a vamp for an attempted Hunting had to go high on her list of things she'd never thought she would be doing. But if this woman was really Henry's teacher, and if she wanted to develop some kind of healthy relationship with her son, then she really had to let it go. Even if said teacher was a vamp.

 

Nodding, Mary Margaret shuffled her feet, pulling the edges of her cardigan closer around her shoulders. “I'm... sorry for earlier,” she said quietly. “...I know it must have seemed like I was trying to attack you and I just wanted to apologi-”

 

Emma shook her head, cutting her off. “I'll forget it if you will,” The Hunter grunted, hooking her thumbs through her belt loops.

 

The teacher nodded and attempted a smile. “Good.” There was a long, awkward pause, finally broken when the vampire spoke again: “Well, I guess I'll go then.”

 

Only nodding in reply, Emma continued to look down at her feet. It was the easiest way to suppress all the insistence of her mind that the creature before her was a mindless bloodsucking machine and really needed a bullet in the heart.

 

Thankfully oblivious to her line of thought, Mary Margaret just turned to go.

 

Giving an inward sigh, Emma stopped her with a call. “Hey, if you... maybe wanted to tell your werewolf friend that we ...talked?” If you could even call this that. She tried to elucidate: “...Granny's food is pretty good and since I guess I'm gonna be staying here a while....” she trailed off.

 

Mary Margaret actually laughed a little. “Ruby get a bit testy with you?” she asked. “She's just protective of me, is all. I'll ask her to let it go.”

 

“...Thanks.”

 

Before the conversation could get any more awkward, Henry managed to save them from further foot shuffling by popping his head out the door and asking if Emma was coming inside or what. She flashed her son a genuine smile and then gave the vampire one last, slightly less distrustful look than she had before, and headed inside.

 

Where she was immediately whooshed at and then pounced upon by a very rambunctious, very strong little eight-year-old. Flung against the closing door by the force of his leap, she had to quell her automatic response, which was to fling the child from her, grab the nearest pointy object and thrust it forcibly through his chest. She actually had to stop and remind herself that this was her son. When she did, her arms curled around him and whatever scowl the 'attack' had caused to emerge on her face quickly melted away. Nothing in her life had ever felt so right, so perfect, as holding her son in her arms, even if he was a lot heavier than the last time she'd carried him. And even if he was a Sunwalker or whatever the hell he was.

 

“Hey, kid,” she almost sighed, relaxing against the door as she held her son. She pulled back just a little to rifle a hand through his hair. She'd seen how often Regina seemed to smooth away the naturally fly-away look he had going for him. She couldn't help but take sadistic pleasure in deliberately mussing it further. “Miss me or something?”

 

Henry rolled his eyes at her. “Uh, yeah,” he grinned. “I talked about you all day!” His voice swelled with pride, like it was an achievement.

 

She didn't quite know how to process that. Instead, she simply nodded and bent to put the kid down and actually enter the house, rather than be stuck against its door. She'd had quite enough of that from the mayor, after all. And, speaking of... she glanced around. “Where's Regin-” she paused, correcting herself with a wince. “..Where's your mom?”

 

The boy shrugged. “Making dinner.”

 

As if on cue, the tell-tale clicks of Regina's heels on the floor announced her imminent presence. “Henry?” She strode into the room, wiping her hands on a towel. “Go ahead and do your homework while I get dinner ready, dear.”

 

“It takes that long to heat up blood?” Emma found the words falling out of her mouth before she could help them.

 

With a slow turn of her head, the mayor regarded her with an icy stare. The two locked eyes and Emma could tell Regina was trying very, very hard to not do something magical to her while ...their? son was in the room. A blast of cold air seemed to rush over her skin and Emma forced back the shiver that desperately wanted to escape, determined to continue to stare down the brunette. Finally, the mayor just forced a very fast, fake smile. “No,” she said simply and nodded lightly to Henry before turning back to the kitchen.

 

“Can Emma help with my homework?” Henry piped up, cheerfully oblivious to the fact that to the two women, the room had just gotten several degrees colder.

 

Regina froze, her body visibly tensing mid-step. She was obviously considering something. Pivoting on her heel, the mayor turned back with the same coldness in her eyes. The smile she gave was nothing short of evil, and this time Emma could not prevent the shiver as the mayor's currently fangless teeth bared with wicked delight. “...She can try.”

 

* * *

 

 

After being led to her son's bedroom, the Hunter sat down on the edge of the bed as Henry pulled out his schoolbook. She stared dumbly at the huge monstrosity of a textbook for a moment, fortunately unnoticed as her son grabbed the binder with his assignments in it. Emma cleared her throat. She faced down witches and werewolves and vampires for a living. She could deal with assisting in third grade homework. Right? “Okay... so... what homework do you have, kid?”

 

He pulled a face. “History.”

 

“Right.” History. Of course. The expression on her face matched that of her son. “What are you learning about?”

 

“Ancient Rome.” His fingers flew over the pages, quickly flipping to the relevant ones.

 

Emma looked down at the book, a line of surprise furrowing over her brow. “Isn't that a bit... advanced for you, kid?” Not to mention hardly relevant to the current state of the world....

 

The boy shrugged. “Principal Nolan says it's important to understand where we came from before we can know where we're going.”

 

Her eyes rolled. It sounded like something a principal would say. Or... a thought occurred to her. “Is Principal Nolan a vampire, too?” she muttered, more to herself than her son.

 

He heard, of course, and fixed her with a strangely curious look. “No, he's human. He's Miss Blanchard's.”

 

That surprised her. Her attention snapped up from feigned interest in the book to her son. But Henry was focused on his work, now, grabbing a pencil from his bag and completely oblivious to her surprise. Shaking her head, Emma forced the question that arose about why a vampire owned someone who was technically her boss to the back of her mind. It wasn't the time, and Henry didn't have the answers, anyway. She refocused her attention on the book. And then stared at it, pulling it out of her son's lap and into her own.

 

“...What the hell....pful textbook,” she barely corrected herself in time, biting her tongue and then flipping through a few pages to cover herself. “Henry ...what... erm... what kind of history book is this?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I mean, why is there a vampire arguing in the Roman Senate?” She gestured to one of the pictures, displaying an impassioned figure in a toga with very obvious fangs. She flipped to another page, this time showing a group of vampires in a war tent, with what appeared to be werewolves in the background.

 

“Because the emperors of Ancient Rome were in the habit of calling on those more experienced to advise in councils of war. How else did you think a nation prone to civil strife and with such few natural resources could take over so much of the world?”

 

Emma's head snapped up in the direction of the door, currently framing the amused form of Henry's adoptive mother. Regina continued with a small smile, “Such... advising sparked the first real phase of Claiming becoming in vogue, and then eventually led to gladiator fights- humans desperate to prove their worth in hopes of being Claimed, eventually bitten and turned.” A flash of an expression over her face, and she quickly added almost as an afterthought, “or so I understand.”

 

The blonde found herself at a loss. What exactly did you say to that? She glanced down at the book again, and then pushed the book back at her son as if it were suddenly repellant.

 

Henry took it from her with an easy smile, marking the page relevant to his homework with a note card. “Mom's really good at history,” he offered simply.

 

Regina's head quirked slightly to the side. “Indeed,” she purred, and then in a completely different tone: “Dinner is ready.”

 

With a whoop, Henry leapt off the bed and bounded down the stairs so emphatically that he lost a shoe on the way down. Noticing as she followed, Regina chastised him, receiving only a vague and far away sounding, “Sorry, mom!” in response. Henry was obviously already at the table.

 

As if on cue, Emma's stomach rumbled loudly, and her unease about the book and what warped kind of history Henry was learning about in school was momentarily derailed. She deliberated on whether she should try Granny's again for her own dinner plans. Maybe Mary Margaret had talked to Ruby by now? Or, hell, the sun was rising now. Maybe Ruby had gone to bed. She could hope. Another rumble of her stomach prompted her to finally swing her legs over the side of Henry's bed. It wouldn't hurt to try.

 

Regina's head poked around the corner of the door. “Miss Swan? I said dinner was ready. Your chicken is going to get cold.”

 

A snide 'yeah, I heard' was almost on its way out her mouth before her brain did a few mental calculations and froze. Her jaw dropped open. “You... made me dinner?” her voice was a pitiful excuse for a squeak.

 

Regina just raised an eyebrow like the answer was the most obvious thing in the world.

 

* * *

 

After dinner, Emma lay back in the bed that she was slowly adjusting to the idea of being hers. Maybe. At any rate it was the one she'd slept in before.

 

Her stomach was full almost to bursting. When Regina had said her chicken was getting cold, Emma hadn't yet realized she meant a _whole_ chicken. Coupled with the heaping helpings of green beans and summer squash, and Emma had found herself very, very full. And suddenly very exhausted. She wasn't alone in that. After drinking his own dinner (and making sad puppy dog eyes when his mother refused to allow him to eat any of Emma's), Henry was showing definite signs of sleepiness. Unsurprising, given that the sun had fully come up by that point. Though there was no risk of any light getting into the house, of course.

 

Regina had ensured he was ready for bed in no time at all, and as Emma left the room after kissing his forehead goodnight, she couldn't keep the yawns from wreaking havoc over her. Regina had just looked at her and suggested bedtime for her, too. After all, she had to make sure her human was well taken care of.

 

And here she was. Falling asleep in the house of a vampire Queen. Who owned her. Which made it, she supposed, kind of her house, too now. Maybe. She still wasn't exactly sure how that all worked. But she was too tired to worry about it, now. She'd figured out more in the morning.

 

As sleep finally took hold of her, her last thought was a sort of odd realization that Regina had never answered when she'd asked what the mayor was planning to do with her.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

_Her dream was shifting._

 

_She was still running, still stumbling, her pregnant body heaving with every pace as the monster chased her. It still caught her as it always did, pressing her against the wall of the alley, dark eyes twinkling in fiendish delight as fangs sunk greedily into her throat._

 

 _She screamed, but even as she felt her life being drained away from her, she heard a voice not her own laughing with savage glee in her mind._ **You're mine now, Miss Swan.** _This was new. The vampire had never spoken before._

 

_The monster thrust her away, her blood coursing down its chin, and she stared at it with eyes rapidly going dark. It was Mary Margaret. Still laughing, the vampire dropped her and she fell to the ground, drawing in a haggard breath as her body lay dying. She looked up again, clawing at the beast with her last strength._

 

_Kneeling over her, the monster grabbed her by the still bleeding throat, long claws sinking into flesh that was already torn and ragged. Apparently no longer content to simply let her bleed to death. Emma fumbled weakly with the hand, and noticed with a hacking gasp that the monster's face had changed._

 

_Now it was Henry. Then Mary Margaret again. And then Regina's dark lips pulled back in a cruel smile._

 

_**Miss Swan.** _

 

“Miss Swan!”

 

At the shout, Emma's eyes snapped open, her body instantly on the alert and responding automatically to the perceived threat. She grabbed the closest possible weapon to her hand- a pencil from the bedside table- and flung it in the direction of the voice.

 

The pencil froze in mid-air, jerking with the suddenness of its stop as Regina's hand darted out. The bit of wood hovered two inches from the mayor's chest, the sharp tip poised to strike directly over her heart. Staring at the improvised stake with wide eyes, Regina tilted her head and ran her finger along its length before directing her attention at the woman who had thrown it. “Impressive, but hardly necessary,” Regina muttered. She raised an eyebrow at Emma and lowered her hand. The pencil clattered harmlessly to the floor.

 

Still sleep-addled and inwardly trembling from her nightmare, the Hunter glanced down at the rolling writing utensil, then back to the woman she'd nearly impaled with it. Trying to shake off the need to pant or wipe off the cold sweat she could feel dripping down her arms, she tried to give a shrug and appear nonchalant. She sat up more fully in the bed, unafraid of leveling a glare at the Queen. It was easier than remembering her dream. “Yeah, well, I don't react well to people waking me.”

 

Another raise of a dark eyebrow. Regina seemed almost amused at the fact that Emma had come inches away from killing her. “You were screaming, dear,” she stated simply. She held a cup of something in her free hand. The one that had not stopped the pencil. When Emma's eyes fell on it, Regina seemed to remember its presence, and she offered it to the blonde. “This should help.”

 

Warily, Emma just eyed it, until Regina gave a scoff. “It isn't poisoned. An infusion of chamomile, valerian root, and honey.”

 

Still mistrustful, Emma took the cup anyway. If Regina wanted to kill her, she reasoned, she probably wouldn't do it by poison, anyway. It was warm and sweet going down, and the Hunter found herself not minding the taste of it. When the cup was empty, she handed it back to Regina. With nothing now to occupy her hands, Emma wrapped them around herself and she looked away. Her voice was much quieter when she asked, “Did I wake Henry?”

 

“Henry?” Regina almost laughed, approaching the bed slowly. “No, dear. He sleeps like the dead. You woke _me,_ though, which is quite an achievement.”

 

If Regina was expecting an apology, she was going to have to live with being disappointed, Emma decided. She wasn't giving one. But the Queen's lips pursed in contemplation, not anger. She glanced down at the pencil, hand almost idly moving to her chest and resting over where the weapon had nearly pierced her skin. “...Are you always so precise, Miss Swan?”

 

“When my targets don't magic away my weapons, yeah,” Emma muttered, running a hand wearily through her hair. “Why?”

 

“...It occurs to me that I never answered your earlier question, just before Henry got home. And I might have just thought of a use for you.”

 

 

* * *

 

Guarding the wall.

 

And, occasionally, providing back up for law enforcement, when such incidents required her assistance. Which was seldom. The irony of it all was certainly not lost on her. A Hunter, now employed to patrol and protect a city full of potential former targets, working directly underneath a werewolf. She could have laughed, any time she thought of it.

 

She began to fall into a routine in spite of herself. Days of mistrust and discomfort became weeks of slow, begrudging acceptance. She found that she almost enjoyed parts of her new life. It was almost too easy to succumb to the seduction that was Storybrooke itself. The town wasn't perfect, by any means. But it was nice, when the only real worry in her day was wondering if Ruby was going to overcook her eggs again. Whether at Granny's insistence or Mary Margaret's, the young werewolf had grudgingly mellowed a bit in her treatment of the Hunter, but there was still a bit of animosity there. That didn't really go away until midsummer had passed and longer nights had given rise to a much more active nightlife. The third time Mary Margaret had quietly invited her for drinks with 'the girls,' she'd accepted. 'The girls' were a mixed bunch- Ruby, Mary Margaret, Ashley- human, whose Claimer Sean worked in the gym and who Emma had met a few times, and Kathryn.

 

She found herself developing a casual kind of friendship with the other blonde. Kathryn was easy to get along with, and though sometimes she and Mary Margaret had stiff moments- some kind of bad blood there, Emma never heard the details- they always relaxed and let go by the end of the night.

 

Sometimes the two blondes would stay after the rising sun sent the other members of the group to ground, talking about everything and nothing. She learned most of the town gossip that way- how Mary Margaret had once drained her human so badly that David had ended up in a coma for a few weeks. Regina had been furious. She learned that Regina's head lackey Sidney had been Claimed, turned, and then his maker had left in the middle of the night with no word or explanation, leaving the heartbroken former newspaperman with no one to turn to but the Queen. She learned that despite her initial thoughts, Graham was not the Alpha of Storybrooke's werewolves. That honor belonged to Granny. Graham, apparently, had been found as an adolescent pup just outside the city walls, and Regina had found him during the building of the wall and given him to Granny. A lot of the gossip featured Regina, she noticed, but the Queen/Mayor never seemed to actually be the focus of it. She had to wonder if Regina designed it that way.

 

As for her job itself, it was... quiet, usually. Every so often there was a fuss by the gate- a rogue vamp from the outside trying to get in. She learned very quickly that Storybrooke was not a haven for _every_ vampire. In fact, all the vamps that had even come close to getting to the gate since she'd arrived were all dealt with the same way: a bullet through the chest from one of the snipers.

 

She liked that part of her job.

 

She learned that the only reason _she'd_ managed to approach as far as she had was because they'd sensed Henry's presence in her car. They hadn't known it was him yet, of course, but they'd known, somehow, that there was an ...acceptable sort of vampire nearing the town. She asked for more clarification on that point, but neither Graham nor Regina had exactly been forthcoming.

 

On the nights when her job wasn't quite as ...stimulating as she needed, she often went to the gym. She figured she must owe Frederick at least six punching bags by now, but he never called her on it. He was a quiet guy- often whooshing around setting things up or just watching his business when she was in there. She found she didn't mind his presence much, once she got used to it.

 

The best part of her new life, though, was Henry. A full two months she'd been in Storybrooke, and she never failed to be back at the mansion in time for her son to get home. On weekends, they'd often spend most of the night together- playing inside, working on schoolwork, or playing outside. Regina had initially objected, of course, but it had quickly become obvious to Emma that when Henry really wanted something, his adoptive mother could never say no for very long. And Henry, like herself, was ridiculously stubborn. So more often than not the mayor would interrupt her normal weekend routine by stopping to check on what she had started calling “the two children.” A moniker Emma detested, but when objected to would only be met by the mayor raising an eyebrow and pointing out that 26 years of age was very much still a child.

 

The only real part of her life that hadn't changed was the one thing she wanted to. Her dreams hadn't left her alone- they only worsened. Often she woke in the middle of the day with hoarse vocal chords and sweat beading over her body. Some days, she would wake to Regina already standing in what had become 'her' room, silently offering the now-familiar brew designed to help her sleep. And it did, a bit. The dreams were never as bad, after taking it.

 

Some days as they waited for the drink to kick in, they talked. More often they didn't. The past was never discussed. Emma found herself exceedingly grateful that the mayor never asked questions, never demanded to know what horrors lurked in her subconscious that caused such nightmares. 

 

Her routine came grinding to a halt early one evening after having just dropped Henry off at school. (Regina had allowed her that privilege, three days a week, and Henry had been sooo excited the first time he'd gotten to hop into Emma's yellow bug to be driven to school.)

 

This night, she came back to the mansion to hear Regina's shouting echoing through the house. Never a good sign. “Absolutely not! Your top priority is sealing the breach!” It only got worse as she got close enough to hear what was actually being screamed. And who at.

 

“But your majesty-”

 

“Not up for discussion, Sidney! Get the wall back up, now!”

 

“...Yes, my Queen.”

 

The whoosh of Regina's lackey exiting the house nearly caused the Hunter to lose her balance on the stairs. The fact that Sidney had actually been _allowed_ into the house only added to the mounting pile of dread building in her stomach. Bounding up the remaining stairs two at a time, Emma knocked on the door to the Queen's bedroom, entering before being told to do so. This part of the house was usually off-limits, but something told her today might prove an exception. Regina didn't even seem to notice, blurring around all over the room, rifling through papers, glaring out the window and putting the final items into her briefcase all at the same time. It was impressive to watch, Emma thought. But the frenetic jerkiness of the Queen's motions didn't help her sense of alarm. “...Problem?” she asked.

 

“Henry!” she hissed, coming to a startling halt in front of the blonde. “Is he safe?!”

 

“What? Yeah, he's at school. What's happened?”

 

Regina was a blur of motion again, grabbing her case and appearing to be about ready to leave the house. “The wall's been breached! Rogue vampires are rushing the guards- dozens of them, apparently.”

 

“What?” Emma barely breathed, jaw dropping in shock. “...The wall?”

 

“Is down, dammit! The power has been shut off!” Regina appeared ready to brush past her and head to the scene of the problem. But she stopped, thinking, and then turned to look at Emma over her shoulder. “...Get your guns, Miss Swan,” she ordered. “I'll meet you outside.”

 

Even having had a month to atrophy, her muscles remembered all the haste and reflexes of her eight years of Hunting quickly enough. She was back outside and at her car quickly enough, popping the trunk of her trusty bug and grabbing the leather satchel containing her guns and ammunition. It was the work of a minute to have the familiar weight strapped to her again. A gun each on her hips, thighs, and two on her back. She would forego the leather jacket today. It was an emergency, after all. The second of her knives was slid into place in her boot just as Regina exited the house.

 

“Here,” the mayor tossed her something that glinted silver. Emma caught it without thinking, and then stared. It was the magazine clip the mayor had taken from her the first night. She tucked it in her back pocket.

 

Regina didn't give her much time to dwell on it, coming up close enough to touch the blonde. She ran her eyes over the other woman, as if sizing her up, and nodded to herself. “...Try not to move much,” she quipped. And before she could even ask why, she felt Regina's arms around her, lifting her bodily off the ground.

 

“What the hell-?!” and then they were moving.

 

Flying, more like. The ground whizzed by under the mayor's feet, and Emma yelped in sudden surprise, clutching tighter at the woman carrying her. The speed was dizzying. She clung to the woman as if her life depended on it. Any other time, she was sure Regina would have laughed at the death-grip. Now, the mayor only gritted her teeth and ran faster, the streets and houses of the town quickly gave way to trees and grass. Emma closed her eyes, unable to watch as the world blurred around her. It actually took her a moment to realize Regina was talking to her as she ran.

 

“The rogues will probably have gotten through by now. We're going outside the walls to cut them off. Your orders are very simple, Miss Swan,” she heard the mayor growl in her ear. “Kill them all.”

 

She'd have nodded if the idea of any further motion hadn't made her ill. The noise of fighting reached her ears, and though she hated the sudden assault to her sense, she forced herself to open her eyes. They were nearing the wall, the scene already near chaotic as the native werewolves and vampires struggled to keep a growing number of rogues from rushing inside the city. Ferocious, blood-covered and snarling, the attackers were more like the vampires Emma knew well. Even as a blur, in seeing the two side-by-side, they had little in common, save the fangs, with the vampires she'd come to know in Storybrooke. Not for the first time, she had to wonder what the difference really was. She had the passing thought to wonder where the hell all the outsiders were coming from, and then forced that question away. The first priority was getting rid of them. Where they'd come from could come later.

 

“Get ready,” the mayor hissed, and Emma only had a split second to prepare before they came to a sudden and very disorienting stop. Regina dropped her arms of her burden, already turning to command the wolves and vampires gathered at the gate.

 

Tumbling from the Queen's grasp, the Hunter lurched forward onto all fours and was promptly very physically sick. If she noticed at all, Regina didn't pause in her whooshing about until she found whom she was searching for. “Eugenia!” At the sound of her name, Granny's eyes, gone yellow with near-change, fell upon the mayor. “Your wolves are with me outside the gates!”

 

Granny nodded and threw back her head to howl the order, and Regina turned her attention to a figure already working feverishly. “Sidney! Have the vampires remain within the city walls! Protect the humans, repel the rogues already within, and get the damn wall back up! And someone get Maleficent here now!”

 

Distracted by their orders, none but Emma saw the blur of motion suddenly rushing at the form of the Queen. Regina's attention was elsewhere, her body turned again towards Granny as fur sprang over the werewolf alpha's body. Even on her knees, with her stomach still retching, the Hunter nevertheless found a gun in her hand, wrist flicking easily upwards in a motion well-remembered. The shot rang out, the bullet connected directly with the heart of her target. She didn't tend to miss. The rogue exploded in a gush just as Regina's head snapped around to notice it falling into a puddle at her feet.

 

Overcoming the need to retch, Emma wiped her chin with the back of her free hand and got to her feet, raising an eyebrow at the stunned face of the Queen. She nodded in what could have been called deference, and then her eyes were on the battle beginning around them.

 

Pistol in each hand, Emma broke into a grin, and then a run, heading towards the onslaught of rogues coming at the wall. This was almost going to be fun.

 

 

* * *

 

Later, she would learn that this was only the second breach ever to have occurred since the wall had gone up. Later, she would discover that a breach of this particular magnitude could only have occurred through sabotage. And later, she would discover the real reason that Stroybrooke vampires were not at all like the ones currently attacking the town. The ones she was used to- the ones that owned the night, everywhere else.

 

At the moment, she was too busy shooting. And as each shot left the magazine of her gun, a little more satisfaction rolled its way through her body. She'd missed this.

 

Nine shots later resulted in a puddle each. One of the vamps rushed at her from behind, and she pivoted quickly, her leg swinging up to kick the monster in the head. Before she could shoot it, another came blurring at her. One of the wolves barreled into it from the side, chomping down onto the throat in a gushing haze of red. Recovered, the vamp she'd kicked rose and bared its fangs. Another shot, another vamp down.

 

A force suddenly slammed into her side and she reeled, falling to her knees and bracing as the vampire clawed at her throat, preparing to bite. Just as it would have made contact, the vampire froze, suddenly unable to continue. Emma felt a buzzing in her veins; the Claim, making itself known. The vampire snarled in frustration, but Emma was already grabbing its arm, kicking herself up and swinging her free hand around to slam the side of her gun into its head. It lurched sideways and she shot again.

 

Another whoosh of motion forced the werewolf who had come to her aid to go down with a screeching yelp of pain, two vamps above it. Another rushed at her, she dodged to the right, bending at the waist and firing two shots in quick succession. They connected, the bloody remains of the vamps showering over the previously gray wolf in squelches of red. Emma was already moving again, turning to face a new threat.

 

Her guns clicked empty, and she threw them aside, knowing she'd find them again later, and bent to grab one of the .45s at her thighs. Another vamp rushed at her, and she rolled to the ground, unholstering the guns as she rolled and coming to a stop on her knees. Another shot, another puddle. Clear of all immediate threats, Emma focused her fire now on the vamps further away. Another two went down in quick succession and then a howl brought her whirling around, exploding a third vamp who was about to lunge at Granny. She was pretty sure it was Granny, at least. The gray wolf seemed surprised, looked up at Emma and growled. Almost as if to say 'Hey, I _had_ that one.'

 

Emma almost laughed, and winked at the wolf before turning around to down another vamp attempting to rush her from behind.. She was vaguely aware of Regina behind her and she spun around. The Queen was shouting orders Emma couldn't hear, pausing to ram her hand directly through the chest of one of the foreign vamps. It exploded around her hand and the Queen made a face, palm opening to drop the heart she'd just severed and then ruthlessly squeezed. From the blood and viscera that now covered both Regina's hands up to the elbows of her once white shirt, it appeared that was her preferred method of slaying.

 

Emma pulled a face at the gore. Effective enough, she supposed. Messy, though. A roar of a vamp behind her, and her attention was once again off the Queen and back on more immediate threats. This vamp decided to lunge at her. She backed up, twisting and ducking out of the way until the vampire landed on the ground. It twisted, snarling, and she kicked it viciously. Another vampire whooshed from nearby, covering the space of the open field before the gate in a matter of seconds. Emma aimed, fired, and the running target went down. She turned her attention back to the one on the ground, placed her gun directly over its heart, and pulled the trigger. Her clip empty again, she ejected it, threw the depleted magazine at another vamp to distract it for the split second it took to pull the spare Regina had returned to her out of her pocket and snap it into the pistol. The next shot was aimed at the distracted vamp's heart, and another bloody spray littered the field.

 

A squelch from behind her told her that Regina, too, had just finished dispatching another of the invaders. The Queen paused to take in the sheer amount of puddles surrounding the blonde, and raised her eyebrows, impressed. Her attention was only so distracted for a moment, as she quickly turned back to the wall. “Sidney!” she shouted.

 

“We're trying, your majesty!” he answered. “The power source has been tampered with. We have to find an alternate!”

 

Regina growled dangerously, approaching the wall with a whoosh of motion and stopping to thrust her arm through another interloper's chest. “Where the hell is Maleficent?!”

 

Even as she said the name, a sudden influx of purple smoke began to billow around the feet (and paws) of those defending the wall. Focusing into a single pillar, the smoke solidified, revealing a very smug-looking witch. “You called?”

 

The mayor gave a nod, raising her hands as if to shout 'finally!' Over her shoulder, she barked an order. “Miss Swan! Cover me!”

 

Raising her gun, Emma complied. It was the first order Regina had given her she had no problem with obeying.

 

Taking in the Queen's appearance as if completely oblivious to all else around them, the blonde witch ran her eyes over the mayor, eyebrow raising. “Regina, dear. What have you done to your shirt?”

“Shut up and give me your hand.”

 

Glancing at the mayor's outstretched hand, dripping and covered with the remains of who knew how many vampires, the blonde witch recoiled. “You cannot be-”

 

Regina's fangs were fully extended, the pupils of her eyes gone completely black as she glared at the witch. “Now, Maleficent!”

 

Emma rolled her eyes, and went back to shooting. Her gun emptied. Or... should have. But the weight felt off in her hand of a sudden. Too heavy. Curious, she fired it at a vamp nearing the two witches. A bullet tore through the monster's chest. Bewildered, she fired another shot. And another. She took down three more vamps, and then gun still felt full. She nearly dropped the gun, and then her eyes shot back to the mayor, now next to Maleficent. Their right hands were clasped, lefts pointing at the wall. From the joining of their fingers began to pulse a warm, yellow glow. Like dawn over the ocean, the glow spread rapidly outward along their bodies, quickly bathing the entire field in a golden haze.

 

The two witches burned with all the ferocious intensity of the sun, power radiating out from their extended hands and pouring into the wall. With a shout from Sidney, the silver defense grid came flaring back to life. The wall was back online.

 

The wolves howled in triumph and even Emma laughed at the very welcome sight of electricity buzzing through the wires of the wall.

 

But the witches were not finished yet. With the wall restored, their attention turned to the field itself.

Regina's gaze met Emma's, and the inky blackness of pupil-less irises threatened to bore into her very core. The Hunter stood captivated, frozen in place. The same, apparently, could be said for everyone else, vampire or werewolf alike, on the field.

 

The light pulsed out from the two witches, radiating ever outward in a massive wave that thundered through the entire field. Emma felt it shockwave through her system, and she gasped at the intensity, falling to her knees. She felt warm. And healthy. Very healthy. Like she had been waiting for this moment her entire life. She basked in the light, savoring it as it seemed into each of her pores.

 

And she knew then why Regina had insisted all her own vampires remain inside the wall. The two witches were directly channeling the true source of all magic. Sunlight was sweeping its way over the field. The remaining rogues were fried instantly as the wave hit them, their screams of agony falling only partially from their lips before they were reduced to ash.

 

As quickly as it had come, the wave fell into oblivion. Emma felt a shiver rush over her as it vanished, and felt suddenly bereft. Empty.

 

The very instant she was able, Maleficent dropped the Queen's hand as if the touch was painful, lurching slightly away. Through slightly dizzy eyes, Emma watched the other blonde shake herself, as if tired. Maleficent's eyes met her own, and her lips twisted in a blurred smile before purple fog had once more reclaimed the woman. And she was gone.

 

Rising groggily to her feet, Emma's gaze turned toward Regina. The Queen seemed bolted to her spot, hand still outstretched, eyes still wide open, though the consuming blackness in her gaze had faded back down to dull brown. There were tears pouring down the brunette's face. Hesitant, Emma approached her with empty hands and open palms. “Regina?” she tested, as gently as she could.

 

Her head snapped in Emma's direction at the sound of her name, and Regina drew in a sudden, gasping breath. As if she'd forgotten how. As if, Emma considered with a furrowed brow, she'd forgotten she didn't need to breathe. Erasing the presence of tears with the back of a bloodstained hand, the mayor gave herself a shake, much as Maleficent had done. The difference was that afterward, Regina didn't run away. She ran blood (and tear and whatever else) caked hands down her skirt, smoothing away imaginary wrinkles, tossed her hair back into place, and cleared her throat. “...Back inside the walls, please, everyone.”

 

Staring at her, Emma found herself complying along with the werewolves, who remained as wolves for the moment until ordered otherwise. The fight, after all, wasn't over yet.

 

As she passed by the Queen, Regina blinked at her, lips pursing in apparent thought. To Emma, she looked a bit shaken, but the Hunter elected not to call her on it for now. She just brushed by with a nod.

 

“Miss Swan?” Emma turned her head. “...Impressive shooting.”

 

The Hunter looked down at the gun in her her hand, with its magazine that had somehow never run out of bullets. She looked back to the woman who she now knew must have enchanted it while it was in her possession, and nodded. “Thanks, Regina.”

 


	7. But the Beat is so Strong, I Got to Take it On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there aftermath and loss. 
> 
> Warning: Character death. May induce tears.

**Chapter VII**

 

* * *

 

Back inside the gate, Emma had to take a moment for her vision to adjust. The bright burst of sunlight from the two witches had left her seeing spots, and coupled with the fact that she'd been fighting in the semi-dark, the dilation of her pupils was shot to hell. Fortunately it didn't take as long as she worried it might for them to re-adjust to the floodlights of the now-working wall. And once she could finally see without her vision swimming, she was relieved to note that the inside of the town held far less resemblance to a war zone than she'd feared. An ambulance was already driving away, presumably carrying those hurt the worst. She hoped it was nothing more serious than that. The injuries to humans and werewolves that remained appeared relatively minor, and even those were being seen to by hospital attendants, vampire and human alike. She cast an eye over the other guards, noting the amount of ammo on each of them. Most appeared still fairly well stocked. Emma couldn't help but be a bit impressed. Even in a crisis, Storybrooke seemed to operate like a well-oiled machine. She wondered if the mayor had drilled everyone in town with contingency plans, and then realized that she must have.

 

Regina herself seemed more recovered, she noticed. The Queen was evidently completely unfazed by the fact that her normally impeccable appearance was spattered with blood and bits of exploded organs. She was already in full-out commander mode, quickly finding the vampire she'd left in charge of interior defense and rushing over to him in a whoosh, demanding something about causalities. Was it Emma's imagination, or was she actually moving slower than usual? She couldn't be sure.

 

Hanging back to take advantage of the free second, the Hunter went over her own remaining munitions. The two guns she'd tossed aside remained outside the walls, somewhere in the darkness. She wasn't about to head outside to retrieve them, at least not until sunup. That left her two boot knives, the two guns still holstered at her back, and the pistol still in her hand. With the enchanted magazine. She found herself staring at the weapon, an odd, thick kind of feeling building in her throat. She couldn't quite fathom why Regina had done that. Unless it had been a last-minute sort of thing, right before they'd left the mansion.... but that didn't quite make sense. There had been so little time, and spells like that, Emma was pretty sure, took a while to prepare. Or at least look up. So had Regina done it weeks ago, just in case of emergency? Or... Emma shook her head. Now wasn't the time to worry about this. She swallowed down the weird thing in her throat, thrust the feelings building in her chest away to worry about later. She still had work to do. Replacing the gun in her empty hip holster for now, she headed towards Regina.

 

The Queen was -for lack of a better term- directing traffic. Vampires whooshed to her and back with updates from those who had been stationed around the perimeter of the wall, guarding against additional entry points. They would report, she'd nod and bark orders at them, and then they'd whoosh off again. The large, grey werewolf who Emma had shot the vampires away from stood before the Queen, receiving instruction. Emma gathered that must be Granny. An enormous black wolf paced anxiously nearby, growling every time another vamp interrupted Regina and Granny. Obviously not content with waiting around here much. One guess to who that could be. Emma shot Ruby an acknowledging smile.

 

The mayor was clearly just as upset by the constant stream of interruptions as the younger werewolf. As yet another vamp whooshed up to her, she finally just raised a hand, freezing him in his tracks so she could finish talking. To Granny, she ordered: “Patrol the city. Work in stages or by grid if you have to. I don't care how long it takes, but hunt them down.” With a canine equivalent of a nod, the wolf turned on her paws and then howled, loudly, before taking off. Ruby darted by in a black blur, close behind her grandmother. The other wolves that made up the main pack were not far behind, howling into the night as they ran. Granny gave a series of barks and the pack split apart into three groups, one led by Ruby, one by Graham, and the third by Granny herself. They were quickly out of sight. Regina ran a blood-covered hand through her hair, and sighed.

 

Emma took that as her cue, sweeping a bit of her own blood-matted hair out of her eyes before walking up behind the mayor. “How many got through?”

 

Whirling on her as if to scream about another interruption, Regina seemed to stop when she saw who it was. She gave another small sigh. She looked tired. That couldn't be a good sign. “No more than ten, they think.”

 

Nodding, Emma offered a smile. “Less than I thought.”

 

“Ten more than I want,” Regina growled in response. As if finally remembering the vampire she'd frozen, Regina waved her hand in his direction, raising an eyebrow when he blinked, apparently stunned. “Well?” she glared at him.

 

He seemed hesitant, as if knowing what he had to tell her would not be well received. “...It's the school, your majesty. ...A few rogues got in. At least three, possibly more.”

 

“What?!”

 

Emma could not be sure which of them had screamed. Probably both of them, if she was honest with herself.

 

For a tiny moment, Regina stood stock still. Then she locked eyes with Emma, pupils once again going black. “Henry.”

 

Then she seemed to snap out of it, shaking her head and glaring at the vampire messenger. “Get there, now!” She shouted, and then whipped her head around. “Sidney!” He appeared in a rush the next second. “Get a group of five and meet us at the school, now!” He nodded, and Regina turned her gaze back to Emma. “Miss Swan, with me.”

 

Henry was in danger. Never before had Emma been so eager to get within arm's reach of the mayor. Not even caring how many other people were around to see her in Regina's arms, she pulled out her pistol again, feeling the weight in her hand like an old friend. “Let's go.” Grabbing her, Regina paused for a tiny, tiny second, as if catching her breath, and then she ran.

 

Emma was quite sure she would never get used to the world whooshing by. It bothered her less this time, she noticed, and was relieved. Possibly her body had acclimated to the sensation a bit. Or else Regina actually  _was_ moving slower. Determined not to get sick this time, she kept her teeth clenched and gasped at Regina: “Who do you have protecting the school?”

 

The Queen's voice was a low growl in her ear, slightly panicked-sounding. “The employees, of course! Nolan's in charge, they'll have blocked off the entrances and exits and have the children in the gym. Additionally, a group from City Hall will be in there, and three of the other vampire teachers, as the last line of defense. The rest of the teachers and staff will be patrolling the halls.”

 

Clearly Regina took the protection of the school rather seriously, enough so that even her own office was left understaffed to protect the kids. Good. She clung a little more tightly to the other woman, more for reassurance than any other reason. She'd never been a religious person, but hoped to whatever higher power would listen that nothing had happened, that they would arrive in time and get the damn rogues or whatever.

 

They arrived at the school, Regina barely even slowing down to wave a hand and magic the doors open. She made sure to lock them behind her to prevent any of the rogues from escaping, and sped through the halls until she reached the gym. She lurched to a sudden and very disorienting halt, Emma actually tumbling from her arms.

 

She didn't even have to question why Regina had dropped her. One look up, and Emma's heart lurched into her throat. The gym doors were open.

 

“Henry!” Again, she couldn't be sure who'd said his name, but both women glanced at one another and then ran into the room. Regina was faster, of course, but Emma couldn't even be bothered to watch her speed by. Her eyes were riveted to the interior of the large space.

 

It looked like the war zone that the gate had not. Blood spattered once-white walls, crumpled forms of three people littering the floors, though two were stirring. There were no rogues to be seen, but three puddles of red goo definitely indicated they'd been there. The children were all huddled in a corner of the room, crying and shivering together. Henry among them, she was incredibly relieved to see. She'd have run over and pulled him into her arms, but Regina beat her to it, kneeling down and wrapping herself around him protectively.

 

“Mom!” he gulped, tear-streaked cheeks rippling as he choked out the word. He tangled his hands in her shirt, not caring how bloody she was, just needing his mommy. A pang of jealousy shot through the Hunter, but she shoved it aside, forcing a small smile and coming up to run her hand over the kid's arm.

 

“Emma,” he whimpered out at seeing her, and grabbed at her. Regina seemed to swallow, taking a long, deep sigh before reluctantly letting her son go and turning to the Hunter. Henry immediately jumped into Emma's arms, barely giving her a chance to completely holster her gun. She held him tightly to her, letting out a sigh of her own. He was safe.

 

“Miss Swan,” Regina said quietly, drawing her attention. She looked, and was struck by the look of jealousy filling the Queen's eyes. It was quickly gone, shaken away when Regina cleared her throat. “Stay with him.” It was a simple order, and, again, not one that Emma minded in the slightest. She gave a terse nod, and Regina departed, heading over to where a brown-haired man was laying on the floor. And next to him... Mary Margaret, looking tired but no worse for wear at least physically, was hovering nearby. “Regina!” she gasped, voice sounding haggard and relieved. “Thank goodness! David, he-!”

 

“Miss Blanchard.” Emma heard Regina cut her off quite clearly, the acoustics in the room about the same as any other gym- very echoey. “Your report, please.”

 

Still holding and lightly caressing her trembling son, Emma watched as the young brunette took a fortifying breath and blinked back the tears that were in her eyes. She nodded. Protocol first, apparently. “Five of them got into the school. Three made it in here. I managed to get one of them at the door. The other two slipped past me and went for the kids. We swarmed them and staked them, but not before David....” she sobbed a bit, unable to continue, and looked down at the figure on the ground. Emma finally noticed that it was David Nolan, the principal. Mary Margaret's claimed human.

 

Regina knelt down, placing her hand on David's chest and closing her eyes. “He's alive,” she murmured. Faintly, she began to glow.

 

“Henry,” she nudged her son, who looked up at her face curiously. More color was in his cheeks now, she was glad to see. “What's your mom doing?”

 

Henry blinked, then looked over her shoulder at his mother. “Healing,” he offered. “She doesn't do it much.”

 

The entire room echoed with the sound of David taking in a huge, gasping breath. His eyes opened wide, and he sat up suddenly. Regina stopped glowing abruptly, faltering a bit and falling to one side before catching herself.

 

“David!” Mary Margaret gasped, throwing her arms around his neck. Blinking in surprise, he held her in return for a long moment. “God, Regina, thank you!”

 

But Emma wasn't really looking at them. Her eyes were on Regina. Slowly, very slowly, Regina got to her feet. Worried for her, Emma shifted her son more fully in her arms, and rose to head towards the shaky Queen.

 

“Mom?” Henry asked, looking a bit concerned himself. “Are you okay?”

 

Regina hesitated, turning toward them with a small, weary smile. Her eyes were only on Henry. “I'm fine, dear,” she said gently. She looked like she very much wanted to be the one holding him, but made no move to take him from Emma's arms. That by itself gave the blonde Hunter more reason for concern. She must be very exhausted indeed to not trust herself to hold her son.

 

Rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand, the mayor glanced down at the principal and his vampire. “You said five made it into the building,” she directed at Mary Margaret. “Where are the other two?”

 

As if on cue, Sidney and the group of vampires he'd brought with him came running into the room. “Your majesty,” he said, looking needfully at Regina.

 

She stepped away from Emma, heading toward her vampire lackey slowly, but without faltering. He whispered something in her ear that Emma couldn't quite catch, but it made Regina rear back, appalled. “Show me!” she demanded. They headed out the door. And this time, there was no mistaking the fact that Regina was definitely moving slower.

 

With a growing sense of dread, Emma set her son down on the floor. “Henry, I need you to stay here with Mary Margaret and the other kids for a minute, okay? I'll be right back, I promise. See if you can help calm them down while I'm gone.”

 

“Okay,” Henry nodded, either because he was actually feeling much better, or because he was as concerned about Regina as Emma was. Not that she was worried about cared for the Queen or anything, of course. But she was Henry's mother, after all.

 

She smiled at him, smoothing his hair away from his face, and then ran after Regina and the others.

 

They weren't far, only one hallway up from the gym. Two red splatters covered one of the walls. At least that answered where the missing rogues had ended up. But Emma's attention was glued to Sidney and the others, huddled around a figure who lay crumpled on the floor. Regina sat next to her, a hand covering her mouth as she but back sobs. Beside her, sobbing, was Frederick.

 

“Oh, god, no!” Emma breathed, already knowing what she was going to see when the other vampires moved aside enough for her to make out the body crumpled on the floor. The blonde head was turned to an impossible angle.

 

Emma sunk to her knees. “Kathryn.”

 

Frederick barely looked up, but he sobbed again at even Emma's whisper of her name. Finally, he turned his broken gaze upon Regina. “Turn her,” he pleaded.

 

Even through her own upset, that caught Emma's attention. Frederick was a vampire just as well as Regina. So he should be fully capable of Turning Kathryn himself, right?

 

The Queen stared at him for several seconds, as if shocked he would even ask. “Frederick...” she barely breathed. “It's too late.”

 

“Please! Please, you have to try!”

 

She looked away, running a hand slowly along Kathryn's hair. Then she nodded, turning to lean over the crumpled form of her aide. “This probably isn't going to work,” she told him. He said nothing, merely assisted in getting his human's twisted, mangled neck into position beneath Regina.

 

Emma felt Sidney's eyes on her and she risked a look away from Regina. Clearing his throat, the vampire addressed his Queen. “...Should she be watching this, your majesty?” 

 

Regina only glared at him, as if furious he even dared to interrupt her. A soft click resounded through the halls as Regina's fangs extended. And then, oddly, a second click. Two sets of fangs now protruded from Regina's lips, one directly behind the other. Oddly, the back set were longer than the first. With a tired little bob of her head, the Queen bent forward, and sunk both sets into Kathryn's neck.

 

Emma stared, horrified but unable to look away. She'd never seen anyone Turned before. A dark shudder ran its way up and down her spine at her own memory of being bitten. But Regina didn't look blood-crazed, or even halfway evil. She only looked sad. And incredibly weary. It concerned her, actually, how tired the Queen looked. But Emma only watched, helplessly captivated, for what felt like hours. Regina's head bobbed back and forth a bit, as if she was not only taking blood physically out but also putting something else back in. Kathryn remained unmoving. Disappointed but not unsurprised, Emma lowered her head and allowed her own tears to fall. She had known, somehow, that it would fail. She knew what death looked like when she saw it.

 

Finally, after long, silent minutes of bated breath and waiting, Sidney shook his head and stepped forward. Lightly, gently, he placed a hand on Frederick's shoulder. “I'm sorry,” he said softly. “But she's gone.” He turned to his Queen, very slowly beginning to pull Kathryn away from her mouth. Regina was looking pale. Paler than normal, even for a vampire. She didn't even protest.

 

“No!” Frederick sobbed, trying to stop his hand. “No, just a little more time, please! It has to work.”

 

Without even being conscious of moving, Emma was at his side. “Frederick.” He turned tear-filled eyes on her, as if noting her presence for the first time. “She's gone,” she told him. He snarled, lunging at her, but only sunk into her arms and cried.

 

With a wet and extremely sickening pop, Regina separated from the dead woman's neck. Dark eyes rolled backwards in her head, and the vampire Queen collapsed to the floor.

 

“Regina!” Somehow, despite being surrounded by vampires and even currently being clung to by another, Emma was the one who got to her first, cradling the Queen in her arms and lightly tapping her cheeks. Around her, the other vampires (save for Frederick) all cried out. Apparently, this did not normally happen, even after a failed Turning.

 

Sidney, in particular, looked stricken, shaking Regina's shoulders. “My Queen? My Queen!”

 

Regina moaned pitifully. Emma was reminded of the very first time she'd seen Henry and the resulting agonizing car trip to Storybrooke to get him to his mother. And how Regina had known exactly what to do. Her eyes widened.

 

“Sidney!” Emma screamed, getting the vampire's attention. “She needs blood, now!”

 

The vampire blinked at her. “...But aren't you her human? Can't you just-”

 

Emma just glared at him. Had she even allowed Regina to drink from her... hell, even if Regina allowed herself to drink from Emma, it was obvious enough that the brunette was in no state for that now. So Emma screamed at Sidney, her eyes furious. “Does she look like she has any ability to bite me right now?! Go. To the hospital. And get her blood. Now!”

 

The next few moments were some of the most agonizing of the entire day. And Emma had a lot of agony to choose from. She was trying to stay focused on Regina, and not the broken form of Kathryn nearby. Or Frederick, still holding the blonde and keening. The other vampires had tried to convince him to get up, or at least to move the body, but he refused, simply remaining and rocking her in his arms.

 

It was heartbreaking.

 

Easier, much easier, to try to concentrate on her own Claimer. Regina was fading in an out of semi-consciousness, eyes fluttering open every minute or two. She looked at Emma with wide, uncertain eyes, and then fell back again. She tried to bury her face in Emma's neck more than once, but the Hunter kept her away. Regina's fangs were still extended, after all. After the mayor had slid back into limpness, Emma found herself brushing stray hairs out of her face as she did with Henry, and tried desperately not to rock her in her arms the way Frederick was doing.

 

It felt like forever before Sidney got back, but eventually he did, with two full pints of blood in his arms. Even weak and half-senseless, Regina seemed to know. Her eyes snapped open, nostrils flaring, and she lunged, grabbing at the vinyl packages with weak fingers, but grasping them nonetheless.

 

The plastic was torn open with her teeth, and the scent of blood fully permeated the air. She downed it right there in Emma's lap, a trickling stream falling down her chin as she drained the bag dry. Most people would have retched at the sight, but Emma had seen vampires feed far more times than most people. Too many times, really, and so she looked away. After everything she'd seen and done today, she thought she might well be entitled, but knew that however much Regina didn't care about the blood and... whatever else was on her right now, she'd probably draw the line at vomit. She heard more than saw Regina give much the same treatment to the second bag, and felt when Sidney began helping his Queen to her feet.

 

Regina was coming back to herself slowly, but surely. She blinked twice and wiped her chin. Emma nearly laughed at that, or would have, had the situation been any different. The Queen could be completely covered with rogue goo and be fine, but a little blood from her mouth warranted attention.

 

She stood up on shaky legs, eyes dark and unforgiving. “Sidney,” said the Queen slowly, turning to him with a snarl, “That wasn't blood from my stock. What the hell did you just give me?”

 

The vampire looked stricken, mouth opening once or twice. “Um... well, it was from mine, your majesty. I didn't know how to access yours and the need appeared quite dire so I-”

 

She raised her hand, cutting him off. Apparently she got the point. Even after drinking, she looked, to Emma, incredibly weary. But in body language and voice, Regina was all queenly again, taking in the vampires amassed around her with an eerie sort of grace. “The sun will rise soon,” she said smoothly. “Get to ground. I will contact Granny and coordinate the final sweep of the town, and Principal Nolan will have his staff stay with the children until their parents physically report in to collect them.”

 

Nodding so deeply that they nearly bowed, the other vampires swiftly departed.

 

As soon as they left, Regina seemed to wilt a bit. Emma was on her feet in an instant, standing behind her. But Regina stayed standing. With pity and hurt in her gaze, the Queen finally looked down at Frederick, still holding onto his human. “I'm sorry, Frederick,” she told him. And Emma believed her. “The town will mourn your loss very deeply. Kathryn ...was a very good friend to all of us.” There was a question in there somewhere, Emma was sure. But what it was, she had no idea.

 

Frederick seemed to know. He actually managed to raise his head, staring at the Queen with eyes more dead than even normal, for a vampire. “..I'll stay with her a while longer,” he said quietly, “then I'm going outside.”

 

Regina closed her eyes, as if holding back tears. She swallowed. “...That is your decision to make,” she agreed softly. “I understand.”

 

With another long, slow look at Kathryn, Regina finally just sighed and turned away. “Miss Swan.” It was a command as well as an request, and Emma understood perfectly. She easily caught up to the stride of the mayor, who was walking now, not whooshing. Together, they made their way back down the hallway, to the gym and to their son.

 

“This is why I don't Claim humans,” she said quietly enough that Emma could just barely hear her. “You die far too easily.” Something in the Queen's voice hinted that she knew this from a far more personal experience.

 

* * *

 

 

They collected Henry without fuss, Regina pausing to stop to talk to David and the still present but departing Mary Margaret. When that was finished, they finally headed home.

 

Emma never realized just how long of a walk it was until she was racing the sun back to their house. it didn't even bother her, this time, to think of it as being her own as well. They didn't quite make it in time, but Regina didn't seem concerned about the amount of sun exposure to either herself or Henry. Either it was minimal enough, or she was too tired to do more than emit a wincing hiss and the first rays touched her skin.

 

It was only after Henry was completely safe and in his bed that Regina allowed her facade drop completely. She didn't even make it to her room, falling to the floor in her doorway and burying her face in her hands, choking, strangled sobs clawing out of her lips.

 

Uncomfortable and unsure, as she had really been for most of the evening after the direct fighting had stopped, Emma cleared her throat awkwardly. She felt an almost overwhelming urge to put her arms around the Queen, but resisted. “Regina...?” she whispered softly instead.

 

Dark eyes very slowly looked up at her, tears running down the mayor's cheeks and mixing with dried blood. “...Frederick has just died, Miss Swan,” she said quietly.

 

“You... felt it?” she gasped. And realized why a second later, her mouth falling into a perfect 'o' shape. “Oh god.... You Turned him.”

 

At that, Regina actually laughed, a hiccuping, aching sound from deep in her chest. “There are very few vampires in Storybrooke that are not at least indirectly my progeny.”

 

Emma didn't quite know how to process that. And the person she'd normally ask about it was dead. She closed her eyes. God, Kathryn was dead. “...Why?” Emma breathed out, and sank to her knees beside the other woman. “Why the hell did they come here?”

 

The Queen just shook her head, too overcome or weary to voice an answer, if she had one.

 

They sat in silence for a long time, Emma musing, trying to focus on anything other than what they'd lost. She was a Hunter, fueled by her own need for revenge and her hate for those who ruthlessly took things from her. Like her son, her chance for a life with him. And her friends. She didn't tend to focus on what, because she knew if she did she'd get nothing done, and they would only continue to take from her. If she wanted to make it stop, she needed to focus on why. “I think...” she began, her voice gaining in strength. “The attack was meant to look chaotic and random, but it wasn't. It was too... organized to be just hungry vamps deciding to work together. It's almost like...” she trailed off, looking pointedly at Regina. They were hard again, brimming with anger. “No one found a Queen among the rogues, did they?”

 

“No.”

 

“So getting into town wasn't the goal, then,” said Emma. “So what the hell did they want?”

 

Regina shook her head, rubbing her brow in frustration or exhaustion. Or quite likely both. “...I have no idea.”


	8. I Wanna Dance With You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is a long-overdue conversation

**Chapter VIII**

 

For the first time since Emma had been brought to Storybrooke, it was not her screams that resounded through the house while they slept.

 

She lurched up in her bed, the tail end of a scream still resounding through the house. Without second thought, she threw off the blanket and was out her bedroom door a second later, up the stairs and hovering outside of Henry's door. She cracked it open and peered within. Henry hadn't even stirred. Regina hadn't been lying, when she'd said he slept like the dead.

 

Another scream pierced the silence, and Emma's head snapped up in its direction. The door to Henry's room swung closed on its own as soon as her hand left its frame, and by the time it shut completely she was already down the hall outside the room of her son's adopted mother. The door was closed. Emma paused with only a tiny twinge of hesitation, and then knocked. “Regina? Are you alright?” It was a ridiculous question, on many accounts. Nothing was remotely okay. But Emma had had an exhausting night, physically and mentally, and her sleep had just been rudely, frighteningly interrupted. She felt she deserved a bit of leeway.

 

Regina, evidently, did not. “Of _course_ I'm not alright!” she growled through the door. “I've lost friends and progeny tonight, and I don't even begin to understand why! Do you?!” Her voice sounded ragged, the final demand higher-pitched than everything else. As if she'd been crying.

 

“Sorry.” Swallowing, Emma stared, sheepishly, at the closed door. “I'll... I'll leave you alone, then.” It only occurred to her now, after rushing up, that perhaps Regina simply had her own demons to work through as she slept. She didn't dare ask what they were; Regina had heard _her_ screaming in her sleep dozens of times, and never asked why, just woke her up with a soft touch and a hot drink. She didn't really feel like she needed to ask, anyway.

 

“Wait.”

 

For a second, she almost believed she'd imagined it, the quiet, halting sound of Regina's voice through the door. But the door opened to reveal the mayor clad in a thin robe, hair tousled, (though finally clean, after she and Emma both had used all the hot water in the house for their respective showers) and looking almost... fearful.

 

Clearing her throat, Regina wrapped her arms tightly around her middle as if she actually felt the chill in the air, and tilted her head. “If... sleep for either of us is a pipe dream at the moment... you may as well come in.” She began to walk back into her room, but paused, adding almost as an afterthought: “...Please.”

 

It was the first time Regina and bothered with the pleasantry, and Emma found herself obeying and not minding in the least. She entered quietly, and the door closed behind her with a wave of Regina's hand. Emma availed herself of the opportunity to look around. She was not ordinarily allowed to go into this room, and apart from the previous evening while the Queen had been busily blurring through after yelling at Sidney, she'd never gotten much of a chance to see it. It was very simple, for Regina. After seeing her mayoral office, anyone would think the woman was all about monochromatics and clean lines. But while the bedroom certainly had a great deal of white, it also seemed much more ...comfortable than any other room she'd seen of Regina's. Emma sat down in a large white armchair, settling into the cushions comfortably. Regina set herself lightly on a chaise by the heavily shuttered windows, no light from the midday sun getting through at all. Emma paused to wonder if she ever opened them, just because she could. And then shook her head. She must really be tired if she was worrying about things like that now.

 

Regina glanced at the closed door, and then at her... guest. “Henry?” she asked, because it was impossible to believe that Emma had checked on her without first looking in on their son.

 

“Still asleep.”

 

The mayor nodded, and looked as though a weight had been lifted. Emma understood. The town had gone to hell for a while, and they had lost people they cared for, but their son was okay. That mattered for something. They sat there for a long while, a silence growing between them. It should have been ridiculously awkward, but it wasn't. Hell, the whole circumstance was ridiculous, and yet this odd... family they'd both been forced into had somehow grown comfortable. Comfortable enough that when something happened to threaten it, they'd both reacted strongly indeed.

 

It was Regina who finally spoke, words falling out in a quiet hush over the stillness: “I didn't mean to wake you.”

 

Emma blinked at the broken silence, then shook her head a bit and laughed. “I think I owed you at least one.” She saw the slight smile spread across the Queen's lips, and the Hunter sighed, sobering just a little. “I... wasn't sleeping well either.” Her eyes flicked over the mussed hair, the rumpled sleeping clothes of the usually impeccable woman, and then looked back at the door with another smile, thinking of their son. “It makes you envy him, doesn't it? He... never screams in his sleep.”

 

“He has no need to,” Regina replied quietly. “And hopefully never will.” The silence returned, and Regina gave a small sigh, arms still wrapped around her midsection. She looked at the blocked windows, staring as if she could see past the wood and curtains. Or as if she couldn't bear to meet Emma's eyes when she barely breathed out: “...Thank you.”

 

Startled, Emma snapped her head back, eyes arrowing in confusion. “What for?”

 

The answer was slow in coming, as if the ever-polished mayor actually had to search for her words. “My memory of what happened after-” she paused, and turned her head just a little to actually look at the blonde, “-after attempting to turn Kathryn is ...a bit hazy. I know I was in your arms, I know I desperately needed blood and I know at some point my teeth were in the general vicinity of your neck.” Another pause, and her gaze lowered to the neck in question, obviously unbitten. She glanced back to Emma's face, completely earnest in what she was saying. “...Thank you for not allowing me to bite you.”

 

Emma's mouth dropped open. Of all the things Regina could have said, that had never occurred to her. “Um... you're welcome. I guess?” The silence, this time, was awkward again, the peace having departed. Emma let out a slow, ragged breath, and turned herself more fully toward the mayor. “Look, I-” she sighed, frustrated and tired and worn out, and tried again. “Not that I'm complaining... but why are you so relieved about it?”

 

“I haven't drank directly from the source in... a very long time, Miss Swan. And I don't intend to start soon.”

 

“Again, not objecting, but why?”

 

Regina's hands finally left her middle, moving through the air as if to help get her thoughts across while she attempted to explain. “This might be hard for someone like you to understand, but drinking from someone is a very beautiful thing, Miss Swan. And when given willingly... it's incredibly intimate, for the human as well as the vampire. This person is trusting you with their life, and giving you a part of their own. In return, you grant them peace and serenity and pleasure beyond … well, beyond words, really. When done properly it can be far more gratifying than any other form of intimacy.”

 

“You're saying drinking blood is better than sex?” Emma tried her best not to snort derisively at the idea. “Say whatever you want about intimacy, but I find it hard to believe there's actual pleasure in being savaged, drained, and left bleeding out all over the ground.”

 

Regina shook her head and frowned. “It isn't like that. Not for all of us.”

 

Emma raised a brow. “What makes you so different?” She'd tried to ask similar questions before: why Regina and the vampires in Storybrooke were so much better than any others. She'd never gotten a good answer, only that there most certainly was a difference. But Emma was tired and sore and still upset over losing her friends. She had no patience for dancing around the questions any longer. And since Regina seemed to approve of talking to her while they both couldn't sleep- “The vamps that attacked us are like every other vampire I've ever seen; everywhere else they're just bloodsucking monsters, and they certainly didn't seem to care about _intimacy_ or anyone's pleasure but their own! So why aren't you like _them_?” She was angry, but not really at Regina. She was angry that they'd been attacked, angry that she'd lost friends. And angry that she hadn't been able to stop it.

 

She wasn't the only one. The scar on Regina's lip rose up in a snarl, her eyes growing fierce. “ _Those are not vampires!_ They are shadows- poor imitations!” she spat, rising from the chaise with purpose and danger in her gaze. “You call them monsters, and that is precisely what they are. They have no sense of community, no better judgment! They are weak, useless, nearly mindless; driven only by their own lusts and desires and Queens not fit to control them! Turned and let loose to wreak havoc upon the world and they are taught _nothing_!”

 

Emma blinked, raising an eyebrow. Her exhaustion won out over her logic, and she couldn't help but almost tease: “You don't feel strongly about this at all, do you?”

 

Regina shot her a glare full of steel. Her anger almost would have been frightening, had Emma not looked close enough to see the tears building in the corners of Regina's eyes. The Queen ignored the comment. “If the vampires that attacked us are anything like the rest of them currently controlling the world...” She looked at Emma with what almost looked like concern, as if asking for confirmation.

 

Sobered by the sight of the other woman actually near tears, Emma resolutely nodded her head. “They are.”

 

“Then they seem almost manufactured. They're Turned far too quickly and killed far too easily. The fact that they are not taught means that they were never meant to live long- designed only to drain and to kill. And that is _not_ how things should be, Miss Swan, and it certainly isn't sustainable.” She ran a hand through her hair, wiping at the building tears with a quick flick of her wrist. “And what concerns me is that whoever Turned them- whatever Queen controls them... _has_ to know that.”

 

“Wait,” the Hunter breathed, staring at Regina with wide eyes as she fully digested the ramifications of what the other woman was implying. “You think the state of the world- the vampires who run around killing and eating anyone they find- you think that's all because of one Queen?”

 

Regina suddenly seemed to find the floor exceedingly interesting. “... I don't know,” she murmured, and Emma got the distinct impression that she wasn't being truthful. “But if it is,” Regina continued, a little louder, “then that Queen must be even older than I am. And as a place outside of that chaos and death they seem intent on creating, Storybrooke would be a threat to whatever the ultimate goal is.”

 

“Which is why the rogues came here.”

 

“Possibly. But not many people- vampire or otherwise- even know Storybrooke exists, and our location is rather closely guarded by those who do.”

 

Taking a moment to consider, Emma sunk back into her chair, sighing deeply. She rubbed at her brow, too tired to really be having this conversation, but knowing that sleep really was impossible for both of them by this point. She almost asked if Regina would want any coffee, and then remembered with a jolt exactly how ludicrous that idea was. She rubbed her brow a little harder, trying to force her brain to work. “So how many other Queens know Storybrooke exists?”

 

An almost frightened look flashed over the face of the other woman. Regina looked away hurriedly, as if trying to prevent Emma from seeing that fear. “I only know of two,” she admitted in a quiet, small voice. “And only one knows the actual location. He used to live here, actually.”

 

“'He'?” the Hunter echoed. “Wait, so not all Queens are female?”

 

Despite the seriousness of the conversation, Regina actually almost smiled. “No, of course not.”

 

“...Right. 'Of course not.' Silly me. So this... male Queen. Where is he?”

 

“I don't know. He and I had vastly different approaches, and he had several... ideas... that I did not agree with. Vehemently. He left town frequently on what he called 'business trips'.” Pausing, Regina turned her head towards the door to the hallway, almost as if she could look right through the walls into Henry's room. “And after the last one, he never came back.”

 

Emma's fingers laced together. The rather obvious look at Henry's room had been noted. A sinking, queasy feeling began to build in her stomach, and she clenched her fingers tightly together. She had a feeling she knew where this was going. “Did... does he have a name?”

 

A long pause before the Queen finally sighed and leaned back against the chaise, arm draped over the side. “His name is Mr. Gold.” Regina's eyes traveled down the Hunter's face, coming to rest with intent over the scar on the blonde's neck. She glanced back up into green eyes going wide with understanding. “...And I believe you've met.”

 

Emma's stomach lurched with the memory, quickly replaced by a slow building anger, rising within her until she snarled. Her hand unconsciously rose to her neck, pressing against the scar there. “He... he's the one who-?”

 

“He was the vampire obsessed with creating more Sunwalkers, yes. And he brought me our son.”

 

She could barely believe how casual the other woman was making it sound. “That's it?! He just 'brought' you Henry. Never mind the fact that he attacked me, bit me and left me to die in a stinking alley after inducing labor and _stealing_ my child! Never mind that he apparently did everything you hate about the rogue vampires and was still allowed to live in your precious town! And you... you knew he was doing it and you let it happen?!”

 

The brunette turned away, sitting up straight again. She shook her head. “It wasn't like that.”

 

“No?” The Hunter felt her rage boiling within her, threatening to spill over, and she saw no reason not to let it. She got out of her chair, looking down at the Queen and sneering. “Because it sure as hell seems like it to me! Hell, Regina! You could have at least tried to stop him once you found out!”

 

“I _did!_ ” she snarled, likewise rising to her feet. As if no one was permitted to look down on her, and certainly not in her own home. “But there was nothing I could do!”

 

Emma wasn't buying it. She lunged forward, her fingers twisting into the satin of the other woman's robe and getting directly into her face. With no wall to press her into, she merely tightened her hold. “You're the Queen! You could have just kicked him out of your damn town or commanded your vampires to kill him or hell, I don't know, done _something!”_

 

“I couldn't!” Regina insisted, but made no move to defend herself from Emma's hands.

 

“ _Why not?!”_

 

“He was _my_ Queen!” Regina shouted.

 

Angry hands fell away instantly. The fury vanished, replaced by eyes wide as saucers and a dropped mouth. Emma stepped away as she understood, her face falling. “He Turned you.” It wasn't a question; merely a barely murmured realization.

 

The defensiveness that had risen within the Queen fell away now that Emma was no longer threatening her. Regina smoothed the wrinkles out of her robe and then sighed. “He bit my mother just as he did you, took me from her just as he took Henry. And to my knowledge, we are the _only_ two successes from his attempts to make Sunwalkers.”

 

As the anger fled, there was no longer anything to prevent Emma's mind from allowing a flash of memory to burn its way to the forefront of her thoughts. The same vivid detail that haunted her dreams lurched into her mind's eye, and the Hunter reeled from it. Skin that glittered greyish gold flashed at her, illuminated by the dull glow of neon. A high pitched giggle echoed over deserted streets as she ran into the alley. The dark parting of lips just before fangs buried themselves in her throat and sent her own blood dripping down her pain-wracked body. She shuddered, lurching forward to brace her hands on her knees. Through the haze, she almost thought she heard Regina cry out or shuffle forward as if concerned. But the memories finally passed, forced to the back of her mind as another took its place. Again, she was covered in blood, but it was not no longer her own. A feeling of righteousness spread through her form and Emma righted herself. She smirked as if at some private joke, looking up to meet dark eyes beneath a furrowed brow. “...He's not the one responsible for attacking the town.”

 

Regina was leaning forward, a hand dropping casually back to her side as if she'd recently reached out and was trying to cover it. She quirked an eyebrow. “Oh?”

 

“He's dead,” Emma smiled, basking in that memory. Covered in the gore of someone who had hurt her had been one of the few things she'd ever done that had given her peace. She wondered what that said about her. And then realized she didn't care.

 

Regina, for her part, appeared stunned. “You … you killed him? Are you certain?”

 

“Uh, yeah. He kind of exploded right in front of me.” She was now only about a foot from the brunette, who stared at her, completely frozen. Of all the emotions that she'd seen on Regina's face throughout this conversation, somehow this one, the one where she was looking at Emma as if she'd suddenly grown another head, was the most disturbing. She'd just admitted to killing Regina's Queen, she realized with a scowl. “Look, I'm not going to apologi-”

 

“I could kiss you right now.”

 

“-ize. ...What?” She had to have misheard that. Right?

 

Regina smiled, but did not repeat herself, leaving Emma to wonder if maybe her sleep-deprived brain really had made that up. The Queen, apparently suddenly happy again, nevertheless raked her eyes almost hungrily over the blonde. Appraising her. “I shouldn't be surprised, really. I saw how you handled yourself in the fight.” She seemed impressed, but the smile dwindled just a little. Emma found herself missing it. “Still, I wouldn't go around saying that very loudly,” she offered, almost conspiratorially. “We had our... disagreements, and goodness knows a great number of people here detested him, but Gold was a Queen, and he was very much beloved by at least two people in this town.”

 

“'Beloved'?” She repeated, disbelieving. Emma would have said more, but a series of loud thumps from nearby jolted them both out of their seats. They looked at the door, and then at one another. “Henry.”

 

Regina reached the door first, yanking it open with savage force and barreling her way down the hall to their son's room. The door was open, the bed was empty.

 

“Henry?!”

 

Frantic, the Queen turned to Emma, just joining her in the hall, and then together they ran down the stairs calling their son's name at the top of their lungs.

 

When they reached the kitchen, the boy in question poked his head out of the warmer, a bag of blood in one hand and a glass in the other. “What?” he asked, completely confused and innocent. “...I woke up hungry.”

 

Emma felt her heart about to burst just at the relief of seeing him. “God, kid!” she exclaimed, running a hand through her hair and trying not to pull it out. “You scared us to death!”


	9. I Want You Right Next to Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is a mess in the kitchen

**Chapter IX**

 

“Sorry, Moms,” Henry just smiled at them- a huge, brilliant grin, and poured his sanguine snack out into the glass before taking a large drink from it.

 

Regina reeled slightly at the title that had just fallen from her son's mouth, brow furrowing as she shared a glance with Emma. She wasn't entirely sure how she felt about them both being referred to as his 'moms,' no matter how true it might be.

 

The Hunter just shook her head and smiled, the relief that their son was actually perfectly fine still not having quite overcome the shot of adrenaline coursing through her veins.

 

And the resulting sound of Emma's blood pumping so deliciously near was also distracting for Regina. So much so that it took her a long moment to realize that something was wrong. Very wrong. Her eyes widened as a very distinct smell hit her nose just as Henry began to sway on his feet.

 

“...I don't feel so good,” he moaned. His legs buckled dangerously, fingers suddenly paler than normal losing their grip on the glass, sending it shattering to the floor, the remaining blood jarring against the white of the floor. He watched its progress, head tilting down on his neck as if in slow motion. “...Sorry, Moms,” he slurred.

 

Emma watched as his legs gave out, their son promptly collapsing in a sudden folding of muscles. “Henry!”

 

A blur of motion and he lay cradled in Regina's arms, the Queen frantically calling his name, opening his eyes with her fingers, shaking him. He moaned faintly, eyelids fluttering open briefly before falling shut.

 

Emma was instantly at her side, taking a shard of the broken glass and dipping her finger in to inspect its contents. The blood shimmered slightly, the viscosity too thin for normal blood, even warm. Her eyes widened; she knew what this was, she'd used it herself once or twice. “Silver nitrate.”

 

“What?!” Regina shouted, staring at the blood and then back to their son. Her fangs were extended, eyes going wild and furious. “Someone,” she hissed, “has _poisoned_ our son?!”

 

* * *

 

_Emma raced through the pounding rain, barely taking note of her surroundings as she Hunted. Not for the first time, she cursed her wisdom in forcing a confrontation here, of all places. The abandoned warehouses provided about a million places for her quarry to hide, stacked crates and piles of dilapidated machinery between looming warehouses. The occasional standing light, those that hadn't burned out or been shattered, reflected the falling rain eerily in the time just before dawn. It would be sunup soon; her vamp was running out of time._

 

_She was aware of these things only in the periphery of her mind. Everything else was focused completely on the chase, senses long-since honed to detect any hints of motion in her immediate vicinity, even in the dark. This particular vamp had proved particularly evasive. He'd managed to divest her of nearly all her usual weapons, leaving her with only one option left to her, one that she did not normally prefer to use._

 

_She scanned the front of the nearest building, taking in the porch just about the entrance, it's roof low enough to scale. Ambush planned, she tucked her one remaining weapon into the empty holster of her hip and clambered up on to the roof. There; the faint blur of motion was coming closer, finally. She held her breath and kept her head down for the count of fifteen, knowing that he would be listening for her, assessing the surrounding area for hiding places. There was no further time to think. Her body obeyed a deeper, more instinctive rhythm, as she rose up on all fours, then lifted to a crouch. The next thing she knew, she had launched herself from the edge of the porch roof and landed squarely on the vamp's back._

 

_They tumbled forward, the vamp falling to his knees, and Emma wrapped her arm around his neck to support herself whilst reaching for her gun. Then they were flat on the wet ground, her body lying atop his and the needle bearing her silver nitrate compound jammed forcibly into the bend of his neck. It was over, though he didn't yet know it. Now, all she had to do was watch._

 

 

* * *

 

In the kitchen, Emma didn't bother to waste the time to answer the obvious, rushing to the warmer. “I've seen this before,” she explained quickly. “He'll need more blood. Immediately.” Henry was shaking, a pink froth foaming around his lips as trails of red began to slowly leak from his tear ducts. Regina whimpered at seeing it, feverishly trying to staunch the flow.

 

“Don't!” Emma ordered, glancing over her shoulder. “It's his way of expelling the poison! He has to flush it out of his system.” She opened the warmer and stopped dead in her tracks, staring at the contents. With a frenzied sort of energy, she pulled the bags of blood out and dumped them onto the floor, holding each one to the light and cursing loudly when each one without fail shimmered. “...They're all poisoned.” With wide eyes, she turned back to her son, his little body wracked with spasms as he coughed, more of the pink froth burbling around his lips.

 

Howling in fury, the dark eyes of the Queen were practically glowing now, her whole body tensing as she held their son. “Emma! Stay with him!” she ordered, hating herself for having to hand off her son like this but knowing the blonde was nowhere near fast enough for what she needed to do. “I'll go to the hospital and-”

 

Emma shook her head “Regina, trust me, there isn't time!” She ran to her son and his mother, her mind whirling as it worked through recalling and bringing all she knew about silver poisoning to the forefront. “For it to have worked this quickly... Regina, this is a lethal dose. He needs blood _now._ ” Her own eyes widened as she realized what she was saying, and she looked down at their son. Groggily, he blinked at her, his spasms growing more severe by each passing second. As she saw it, there was only one option. Emma brushed away the froth from Henry's lips, opening his mouth. She closed her eyes, and then pressed her wrist to the tips of his fangs.

 

Screaming at her, Regina grabbed the wrist, trying to force away from Henry's mouth. When Emma refused to budge, the Queen slapped her. “What the hell are you doing?!”

 

Hissing at the sudden pain, Emma glared at the older woman, a trickle of blood falling from a newly-split lip. But she did not move, only snarling when Henry didn't either, his eyes closing from the effort it took to keep them open. “He's not drinking!”

 

“Of course not, he doesn't even know how!” The Queen was pushing at her shoulders, pounding on the blonde with her fists, but her strength seemed to have left her. As if she was forgetting she was the stronger of the two, forgetting she had magic. The power, normally so effortless for the Queen to summon, seemed to be just out of her reach with every passing second of seeing her son convulsing on the floor under Emma's arm.

 

Emma endured the punches without retaliation, though a furious growl ripped its way out her throat. “You're going to have to teach him! Right now, Regina!” She was greatly considering backhanding the woman back. The Queen hesitated, and Emma snarled at her, “He's _dying_!”

 

Her lips dropped into a perfect 'o' at the realization. Tears were spilling down from the brunette's face, twisted in agony. She looked at her son, his convulsions only growing worse, black vein lines coming up to the surface of his skin like a thousand devouring snakes. The poison was destroying him from the inside out. Sobbing, she pulled Henry into her lap, finally jerking him away from the offered wrist and pulling him so his back was to her chest. “Get a knife!” she spat at the blonde, and rocked him in her arms. Her lips came to hover beside his ear, her fingers tucking his hair back into place behind it. She took a split second to collect herself, and then spoke. “Henry,” she said evenly, her voice a deadly calm. Commanding. The voice of a Queen. “I need you to listen to me very, very carefully.” His shaking quieted a little, as if comforted just by the power in that voice.

 

After all, Emma realized as she scrambled towards the knife block on the counter, even a dying vampire must obey his Queen. Wordless, she handed the knife to Regina, who took it and gestured for Emma to kneel, facing them. She did.

 

“Henry, open your eyes.” The shimmering, tainted blood was still leaking out of them, but they opened all the same. “Henry,” Regina continued and, had the situation not been quite so dire, Emma would have wondered if repeating his name was part of the process. Holding the knife loosely in one hand, the other reached for Emma's wrist. So fast that Emma didn't even have time to scream, she sliced it open in a single fluid motion. Deeply, tantalizingly open. Regina couldn't contain the flare of her nostrils as the sweet scent of Emma's blood reached her. So close... so tempting.... She forced her mouth closed, swallowing the instinctual urge to sink in. Henry. This was about Henry. “You're going to drink from Miss Swan,” she told him, loosening her grip. “Now.”

 

This part, at least, was instinctual. Jerking forward almost automatically, Henry latched on to the bleeding wrist with both hands, bringing the wound to his mouth and gulping down the dripping blood. It warmed his throat as it went down, sweet and glorious- better than anything he'd ever tasted. Even orange juice.

 

Emma gasped at the pain of his fangs suddenly digging into her skin, tears blooming into existence and pouring down her cheeks. It was her turn to convulse, further memories shooting through her system as if they'd been injected. Her body quivered in all-too-remembered fear. It was her nightmares all over again, but a hundred times worse. She could see the glow of the neon, feel the chill of the night air in Boston. She tried to fight the sensations off, to tell herself that it was her son biting her this time, that she was doing this willingly. But her mind didn't seem to comply, bringing instead an image of grey-gold, glittering skin and a high pitched giggle.

 

But then the laugh was suddenly chased away; a soft, soothing voice taking its place. Warm eyes the color of honey and chocolate taking over the horrors. “Gently,” Emma could hear Regina, admonishing their son. The pain significantly lessened and then faded entirely. She felt a cool touch on her brow, felt more than heard the command to calm down and relax. Emma's eyes opened to stare directly into the dark pools of the Queen's. They seemed to welcome her into them, beckoning. She almost felt she could lose herself in them, and for the first time, could think of no reason not to. So she did.

 

Regina's voice continued through, a soft hush in the ears of her son and his birth-mother. “It is a gift she is giving you, dear,” she instructed. “Repay it in kind and do not abuse it.” The knife was long gone, now, the fingers of one hand threading through Henry's hair while the other slid in light caresses over Emma's face. The blonde leaned into the touch, a quiet moan escaping her lips.

 

“We do not drink to take life _away_ , Henry,” Regina murmured. “We share it. Death is never our goal, and never an option. That is what makes us what we are.”

 

Emma could feel her tension melting away as Regina spoke, each word bringing Henry's touch to her wrist a little less rough, more giving. “Draw her life into yourself, Henry. Take what she freely offers, but give, also. Reach inside her blood and find what it is that she needs. Give the best parts of yourself to her. Joy, dreams, happiness.”

 

Her mind seemed to float further and further from her with every passing word of the Queen, the images of pain and suffering and the last vestiges of her memories leaving her as Henry drank, replaced by thoughts of happier times. Laughing with her son, playing games with him in the early hours of the evening. Chatting with Ruby and the girls about their days while the buzz of alcohol burned pleasantly in their veins.

 

“Good,” Regina was saying. Dark eyes were moving intently back and forth between her son and his birth-mother. A small, gulping sound of relief escaped her lips as the dark veins receded away from her son's face. The shiny, bloody mess of poison dripped down his face to pool on the floor, each drop making her breathe easier. Henry wasn't shuddering at all anymore. “Now listen to her blood, dear. Pay close attention to how her heart beats within it, how it slows with her pulse. You must always be mindful of it; you certainly don't want her pulse to slow too rapidly. When you have taken what you need and given back in kind, then pull away. Never allow what you want to be more important than what she needs.”

 

A final suckling feeling of a tongue against Emma's skin, and then the fangs were gone from her wrist. It didn't hurt. A dull warmth seemed to glow up from it, spiraling through her whole body. Emma gasped at the feeling of it, a low moan escaping from her, the kind she ordinarily would have striven to keep from the ears of her son. Her whole world blurred in a delirious, wonderful haze of joy. As if joy was an impermeable blanket and Henry had wrapped her in it, keeping all the pain and horror of the rest of the world away. When she had the presence of mind to look down, there was only the faint impression of two small holes in her wrist. The slash from the knife was gone. With the slow wonder of a child, Emma reached her other hand for the wound, running the tips of her fingers over it, her mouth dropping open. She was floating. Her skin tingled when she touched it, an almost delighted shiver rolling up her spine. She could feel the warmth of the sun on her face, smelled the clean air of a summer night rushing though her hair. She smiled, a bright, beaming happiness coursing through her body, and sighed, glossy eyes finally looking up at her son and his other mother. “Whoa....”

 

Regina was still rocking the boy in her arms, a matching doe-eyed look on his face as he was held, sunk happily into his mother's embrace. His color had returned, a bit, the flow of contaminated blood finally falling to a dripping stop from his eyes. His Queen waved a hand until a wet washcloth drifted into her hand, wiping his face of the mess. Nothing more came, and Regina allowed herself a sigh of relief. She pressed a kiss to his temple, “Very good, Henry. I'm so proud of you.”

 

“Thanks, Mom,” he murmured, and turned to bury his face in the comfort of her arms, completely relaxed and bonelessly content.

 

The same feeling was pulsing through the former Hunter, a soft, deliriously happy sigh falling from her lips. She blinked with slow precision when Regina shook her shoulder with a caring-sounding, “Miss Swan?”

 

Her center of balance was off, and Emma collapsed a bit, falling back to rest on her elbows. She didn't seem to notice or care, resting comfortably on the mess of the kitchen floor and gazing up almost adoringly at the brunette. Her vision fuzzed, the overhead light in combination was giving Regina an ethereal glow. She looked heavenly. “Hey, beautiful,” Emma murmured.

 

Regina shook her head, trying to decide if she was amused or irritated, but leaning towards the first. “Can you stand?” She slid her arms around her son more securely, lifting Henry easily into her arms and leaving him to curl his arms around her neck like a sloth. “Take a few deep breaths if you need to.”

 

Emma thought about it, as if taking stock to see if she did, in fact, still possess feet. Slowly following the advice, she leaned to one side and then pushed herself up onto the rediscovered body parts in question. Once there, she faltered a little, head spinning, but she continued to remember to breathe. The euphoria cleared a little, the warm bubble that had surrounded her fading into a dull haze. “Whoa,” she said again, and shook her head in an attempt to clear it. “...What the hell..?”

 

Regina was quirking an eyebrow at her, a smirk tugging at the edges of her lips. “I told you, dear: Intimate.”

 

* * *

 

They (mostly Regina) got Henry back into his bed easily enough. He seemed ready to sleep the entire night away, which seemed to just be a natural side-effect of Henry's body. Like had happened previously during his overexposure to the sun. Both Regina and Emma, when she could think clearly, told themselves this, and may have even believed it, yet neither woman felt comfortable leaving his side as he slept. They lay on opposite sides of him on his tiny double bed, uncomfortable at the closeness but neither wanting to move away.

 

They didn't talk about what had happened in the kitchen. Regina had just waved her hand as they'd left, and the bloody evidence of what had happened faded away into nothingness, the kitchen left gleaming and spotless once more.

 

They didn't speak much at all, really. For Emma, this was probably a blessing. Her current state of mind likely wouldn't have allowed for much coherent thought. While the almost drug-like high had faded in the long minutes since her being bitten, the foggy, floating feeling of Emma's mind remained. The world seemed sharper, somehow. More crisp around the edges, and she was finding it very hard to concentrate on anything at all. Even when she tried to force the feeling to go away so she could focus on something really important like why the hell someone would want to poison her son.

 

Just after sundown, Regina had to leave the room to make a series of extended, lengthy phone calls to her office and to Sidney. And then to Granny and again to Graham, informing everyone of the situation and receiving an update on the town itself and its final cleanup. No one had found any evidence of rogues anywhere near the vicinity of Regina's home. How they had gotten in and managed to taint her blood supply was a completely baffling mystery.

 

But the remaining cleanup had gone well. As far as anyone had noticed, there had been no other attempted poisonings. Regina demanded that Sidney arrange personal calls to each vampire and werewolf in town, just to be sure, to which he immediately agreed. She told Granny to expect a meeting the following evening to discuss the attack on the town and subsequent poisoning in great detail. For tonight, she told the Alpha, she would be staying with her son. Granny understood.

 

When Regina had finally returned to take her place on Henry's other side, she didn't say much. Together, they just watched Henry, every twitch of his sleeping form causing a rising panic in both women. It only got worse with their own building fatigue, neither woman having gotten nearly enough sleep the day before. And Emma, of course, now significantly drained of her own energy.

 

Finally, they decided without words to let Henry sleep and attempt some of their own. Emma didn't want to go all the way downstairs, so far away from their son. So she followed Regina back down the hall to the older woman's bedroom. Where this had all began, Emma thought to herself, amused and then pleased that she could finally manage the thought at all.

 

The doors to both Henry's and Regina's room stayed open, just in case. Emma curled up on the chaise lounge, silently accepting the blanket and pillow Regina had the courtesy to offer before slipping beneath the sheets of her own bed. Queen sized, of course.

 

Curling on her side, Emma almost idly ran her fingers over the two small marks left on the skin of her wrist. They'd faded, but the skin there was still sensitive to the point that even the light touch sent tremors racing over her spine. She sighed, feeling the last glimmers of that strange drug-like feeling finally beginning to uncloud her mind. “...We have to assume whoever tainted your blood supply is also responsible for the attack on the town,” She murmured into the darkness of the room.

 

From her bed, Regina gave a small groan, as if Emma had actually interrupted her attempts to sleep. But her voice was completely awake when she answered, “That stands to reason. It may well be why the attack was staged in the first place.”

 

They fell into silence again. Emma shifted on the chaise, rolling over on her stomach. After a few minutes passed, she turned back onto her side. And then her stomach. And then side again. Finally, with a frustrated noise of discomfort, she sat up and looked over at the mayor. “Why the hell would anyone want to poison our kid?”

 

The frustrated noise was echoed by the brunette, who rolled over to glare at the noisy blonde. “The poison wasn't meant for Henry,” Regina growled, as if it were obvious.

 

“...Of course. It was meant for you.” Emma whispered, eyes widening, visible even in the dark of the room. “Someone is trying to kill you.”

 

Regina sat up in her bed, running a hand through her hair. She'd had a long while to think about this, while they'd been silent and Emma had worked her way through the bite. Since the blonde now seemed intent on not allowing her to sleep, the mayor decided that at least she could now say her thoughts aloud. “If we assume that the ultimate goal of all this _was_ to poison  me, then the attack on this town was only a means to that end. Everything else that happened- the deaths, the slaying of their rouges- it was all collateral damage. A risk that someone had assessed while they were planning and thought worth taking. But what concerns me most is that whoever did this knew exactly how I would react, Miss Swan. If it _is_ another Queen... then that Queen knew enough about me to know I'd overextend my magic repelling the rogues. They knew I'd eventually waste too much energy and desperately need blood. So they tainted my blood supply.”

 

Nodding, Emma considered this. Her mind cycled back to the previous evening, when Regina had lain helpless and depleted in her arms. She licked suddenly dry lips, remembering. “...But Sidney gave you blood from his supply. Not yours.”

 

“Exactly,” Regina said with a sigh that ended in a growl. “They couldn't have expected that; they'd just assume I would drink from my own. I have to wonder is if they even know that supply is shared, if they know about Henry at all. If they do, then the fact that he would quite probably also drink the poisoned blood had to have been factored into their plans. Which means that they didn't care if they killed our son, Miss Swan.”

 

It was Emma's turn to growl, baring her teeth at the thought. She bit her lip hard enough to draw blood, taking a deep breath to force away the sudden blazing anger coursing its way through her.

 

From across the room, she heard Regina give a deep inhalation, expelling it in a slow moan of what could almost be called arousal. “Don't do that...” she groaned.

 

Emma's head snapped up, refocusing on the mayor with confusion in her eyes before she realized what exactly Regina was smelling. Her hand flew to her lip, stanching the blood and darting her tongue out to quell the scent of it.

 

Regina was trembling, her fists white-knuckled and buried in her sheets. Even in the dark of the room, Emma could see her eyes. Any sort of comfort they had offered her in the kitchen had fled, the irises gone completely black and seeming to suck what little light was available into their depths. Regina spoke quietly, listing things off in a dry tone as if going through something as benign as her daily planner. “I haven't yet fed, Miss Swan. My supply is destroyed, I just had to coach my son through drinking from the source for the first time in his life, and I suddenly find myself very, ... _very_ hungry.”

 


	10. I Want Your Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the gauntlet is thrown.

**Chapter X**

 

Breath catching in her throat, Emma watched the woman across the room with wide, uncertain eyes. Her hand clenched into a fist, ready to try to defend herself should the Queen be unable to resist the urges she now knew were roiling inside. The sheets of her bed shifted beneath the Queen as she moved, soft fabric rustling. “...Regina,” Emma warned, her voice a low growl of defense.

 

But the brunette was only changing positions to get her trembling under control, finally relaxing onto the bed and nearly burrowing into her covers. Her face turned away from the Hunter, planted in her pillows. “Go to sleep, Miss Swan,” she hissed, voice harsh and condescending. “I'm _not_ going to bite you.” She settled deeper into her bed, and looked for all the world like sleep was very nearly about to claim her.

 

Still wary, Emma only watched her for a long moment, her pulse still racing beneath her skin. When long, silent seconds had gone by without the Queen so much as moving, much less attempting to sink her fangs into her neck, Emma finally allowed herself to breathe normally again, and slowly lowered herself back down to the chaise. Evidently Regina had more self control than it had at first appeared. The druggy haze from Henry's drinking of her was finally completely gone, leaving only weariness in its wake. She doubted she'd be able to fight off Regina all that well right now anyway. She'd had a very long day, after all, and her body was sluggish enough from blood loss. Her son might only be eight years old, but it felt to Emma like he'd obviously inherited her appetite.

 

Another reason why Regina was able to resist drinking from her? Maybe she could tell that Emma didn't have any further blood to spare. Deciding in that moment that if Regina truly wanted to bite her, she probably could do so rather easily, Emma just allowed herself to sink into the easy embrace of the chaise-lounge and curl herself into her blanket. Her eyes closed, she gave a soft sigh, and sleep was hovering over her within minutes.

 

* * *

 

The sound of the doorbell jerked her awake, her weary body protesting as much as it could before the taunts of sleep danced away. Groaning, she leaned up on the soft cushion of the chaise, watching with bleary eyes as Regina already slipped out of her bed, muttering her own soft curses beneath her breath as she fluffed a hand through her hair, pulled on a robe and headed out the door.

 

“Wait,” Emma called, weakly, and rose herself. “You shouldn't go alone.” Her body stretched up, arching until her bones popped and and shuddered in a sluggish attempt to shake away the fatigue.

 

Raising an eyebrow at her, Regina looked about to snap that she certainly didn't need Emma's help, but she shook her head and waited anyway, perhaps realizing that the Hunter could be useful. Together, they padded quietly by Henry's room, stopping to pop heads in and reassure themselves that yes, he was still there, sleeping peacefully.

 

Lucky kid, Emma thought glumly, and followed the brunette down the stairs to the door. She stopped Regina from immediately opening it with a gentle touch to her shoulder, bending to the coat rack to pull one of her guns out of the bag she'd left there after they'd returned from the school. Rolling her eyes at the gesture, Regina nevertheless allowed it. She still didn't much care for the fact that Emma had guns in her house, but she no longer demanded their immediate removal. Especially after seeing for herself just how adept the blonde was at using them.

 

The doorbell rang again, and Regina cocked an eyebrow at the Hunter, as if to say 'well?' Emma nodded, cocking her pistol, and Regina resisted the urge to roll her eyes again before opening the door.

 

“Can I help you?” she offered in her best mayoral tone. Because even if her death lay outside, she'd greet it with a smirk.

 

Hand still poised over the doorbell, Ruby just blinked at the greeting, looking beyond the mayor to see Emma lowering her gun with slumping shoulders. “...Good evening, Madame Mayor,” the wolf offered with a small smile, and extended the large basket she held in one hand towards the vampire. “For you.”

 

With a furrowed brow, Regina stepped out of the doorway, eyes darting to the side to notice Granny standing with her back to the house, crossbow at the ready; as if to guard her house from any additional threats. Regina smiled, turning her attention back to Ruby. She did not immediately take the basket, but felt her fangs drop into prominence of their own accord when she saw the blood packets steaming from under a towel. “What's this?” she asked, as if it weren't obvious.

 

Ruby shuffled, shifting her position to hold the heavy basket more securely. “Granny figured that if your ...supply was tainted, you probably needed some more,” she shrugged, and shook the basket, hoping the Queen would take it soon.

 

“How... thoughtful,” Regina stated simply, but made no move to take the basket. Her eyes seemed glued to Granny, who finally turned to look at the Queen.

 

Huffing behind her, Emma brushed forward. “For god's sake, Regina,” she growled, stepping up to take the basket from Ruby's arms. She gave a faint 'oof' at the weight. “Good god,” she groaned, paling a bit. “How much blood is in here?!”

 

“We brought food for you, too, Emma,” Ruby explained, trying not to laugh at the expression on the blonde's face.

 

Emma eyed the contents more thoroughly, taking note of the copious amounts of foodstuffs hidden beneath the packages of blood. “Oh,” she grinned at Ruby. “Well that explains it.” Her stomach growled in anticipation.

 

“Why don't you assist Miss Swan in taking it into the kitchen, Miss Lucas,” Regina ordered, still not looking at either of them, and stepped aside to allow Ruby into her house.

 

“Uh....” Ruby licked her lips, nervously, eyes darting back to glance at her grandmother. Granny's eyes were likewise only on the Queen, but she gave a brief nod. “...Okay.” Looking warily back and forth between the two older women, Ruby finally just swallowed and slid past the Queen, following Emma into the kitchen with a confused expression on her face.

 

“What the hell is that about?” Emma hissed at her. If she was aware that both Granny and Regina were still fully capable of hearing her, she didn't show it.

 

Shrugging, Ruby slid into step next to the blonde, taking hold of the other side of the basket for her as they walked the heavy thing into the kitchen, setting it down on the counter. “I have no idea.”

 

On the porch, unconcerned with the mutterings of the two younger girls, the Queen and the Alpha continued their silent game of staring. Regina's head titled slightly to the side, awaiting an explanation.

 

Running her free hand up to adjust her glasses, Granny finally just huffed and broke first. “I couldn't let you go hungry,” she groused.

 

Regina raised a hand to rest on her hip, letting out a short bark of disbelieving laughter. “You'll forgive me if I don't jump at the chance to openly accept such a... gift. I do remember the last time.”

 

A long moment of silence, broken only by Granny's hands resettling over her crossbow. “That was a long time ago, Regina.”

 

“For you, perhaps. But it _was_ the last time anyone tried to poison me.”

 

“Regina...” Granny began, waving her hand at the house, “this has nothing to do with me. I know you and I have had our differences, but I would never try anything... I wouldn't do this. Not after all we've been through together.”

 

Warily, the Queen ran her eyes over every inch of the old wolf, watching her pulse beat beneath her breast, taking in the steadiness of her eyes. “I believe you,” she finally sighed, relaxing enough to rest her head against the back of one of her pillars.

 

Slowly, Granny extended her hand as if to place it reassuringly on Regina's shoulder. She seemed to think better of it, and finally just sighed. “You look tired, Regina. You should eat.”

 

“Such concern for my well-being from a former Hunter,” the Queen mocked. “I'm flattered.”

 

Hackles raised, Granny growled, “Look, Regina... if someone really is trying to kill you... well, I want you to know that my wolves and I will do whatever it takes to keep that from happening. And the same goes for Henry. You know I adore the little pup.”

 

The Queen felt the barest hint of a smile teasing at her lips, and allowed it to spread into a slight smirk. “Why, Eugenia,” she almost laughed, “Getting sentimental in your old age?”

 

“Hah!” the grandmother exclaimed, shaking her head. “Fat chance. It just ...took me this long to get used to you, _your majesty_. Hate to lose you now.”

 

* * *

 

The next evening, Principal Nolan had to assure Regina multiple times that she would be contacted should even the slightest side effect from either the poison or feeding from Emma assert itself while Henry was at school. With a ragged sigh and a nod of her head, Regina finally allowed him to go. Henry hadn't been the intended target, after all, so he would be quite safe. And she had her own meetings to arrange to discuss the aftereffects of the attack on the town. All of which left Emma with nothing to do but her least favorite thing in the world. Paperwork.

 

With a weary sigh, Emma sunk her head down into her hands, her breath scattering a number of the old bits of paper piled around her. This was impossible. She was in the back room of Granny's- the only place big enough to have brought decades of town records into- searching for any kind of clue as to who might have motive to wish ill on Regina. It wasn't her preferred method of research, certainly, but it seemed the only one available in a town full of centuries-old wolves and vampires.

 

At the moment, she was going through the contents of Kathryn's desk, a lump in her throat each time she found some small notation written in the concise, clean hand of her friend. She proceeded to lose herself in the nearest file, and willed there to be something, anything, that would explain all of this.

 

After a while, the door to the room opened to reveal Ruby with a fresh cup of coffee, setting it down on the table with a grin. Granny entered right behind her with the newest batch of records she'd dug out of her own storage. Emma had no idea how she'd escaped sitting in on Regina's meeting, but assumed it had something to do with Graham. The Hunter wasn't about to complain; Granny's presence was proving very beneficial in sorting through the piles of old paper. “Having any trouble reading my chicken scratch?” she asked, setting the box down on the rapidly depleting free space of the floor.

 

“Not yet,” Emma sighed, pushing back from the desk with a groan.

 

Ruby scooted herself onto a tiny smidgeon of clear space on the table, looking down at what Emma has just been reading. “Any luck?” the younger wolf asked.

 

“Not really,” Emma muttered, rubbing the back of her head and stretching out her shoulders before reaching for the coffee. “Be easier if Regina could narrow it down for me, but she seems to have very little ideas as to who's trying to kill her.”

 

Granny gave a small chuckle, pulling some of the records out of the most recent box. “Well, no denying she's made enemies of the years. Even tried to kill her once myself, as she reminded me last night.”

 

Emma started at that, nearly spitting out her coffee. “You did?” Sure, she'd known Granny had once been a Hunter, but she didn't think... well, Emma honestly wasn't sure what she thought. She'd often wondered herself how things would have turned out if she'd come to Storybrooke with the intention of killing Regina. Having gone up against the witch/vampire before, albeit in the foyer of the mayor's house, she didn't know how she favored her chances.

 

“Once, a long time ago, when I was still a Hunter,” Granny nodded, taking a deep breath and almost idly reaching for the wolf bite on her arm. As if protecting it. “...I'm sure you can guess how it ended.”

 

“What, did she Claim you, too?” Emma laughed, trying to quell the sudden feeling of unease that was rising in her belly.

 

Ruby shook her head, laughing a bit herself. “Nah, you're the only one who got that honor,” she grinned, winking slyly at the blonde.

 

As if it were something Emma had earned, or wanted at all. She took a deep breath, eying the way Granny was still holding her arm. “So... what did she do?”

 

Granny shrugged. “Same thing she does to any Hunter who tries to kill her.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

_Eugenia was forced to her knees, the rough stone of the floor digging into skin already raw and bleeding from fighting. Wheezing with every breath from what she was fairly certain was a broken rib or three, she nevertheless managed to raise her head, determined to go to her death as feisty as she'd lived._

 

“ _I'll give you this much, dear,” she heard above her, a figure emerging from the shadows and striding up to her nonchalantly. “You got much closer than most do.”_

 

_This was the Queen she'd been Hunting, then. Regina. Not like she had to be a genius to figure it out from the way she held herself. This one looked regal to the last inch of her. Still, Eugenia jerked her head forward, fighting against the two great brutes who held her and struggling to get to her feet. She failed, but not for lack of trying.“If you're going to kill me,” she spat, and actually tried to hurl her spittle at the Queen. “Then kill me.”_

 

_Regina didn't so much as flinch, the saliva coming nowhere near close enough to hit her. Seeming not to hear her, the Queen just continued to smile, cocking her head to one side as she regarded the fallen Hunter before her as if she were a meal. Which, maybe, she was. “It seems a pity to waste such talent. You're obviously good, despite your years, or you wouldn't have gotten this far. Though really, dear: Poison?” She chuckled, taking a moment to run a languid, appraising look down the form of the Hunter. “Not very sporting of you.”_

 

“ _I don't tend to take chances with someone as old as you.”_

 

_Raising an eyebrow, Regina actually looked impressed for a moment, but shook her head all the same. “Seems to me you took one too many. Now, then,” she paused, taking a seat in the large throne directly before the kneeling form of Eugenia. “Choose,” she finally demanded._

 

_Blinking, she just shook her head, not understanding. “Choose what?”_

 

_The Queen gestured to the two guards at either side, leering at her with hungry eyes.“Vampire, or werewolf?”_

 

“ _Why would I care which kills me? Just get it over with.”_

 

_Laughing, the Queen clapped her hands like a delighted child, rising from her throne and approaching. “No, dear. Not to kill you.” She leaned down, letting her breath tickle over the cheek in front of her as she grinned down. “To become.”_

 

_Reeling, Eugenia yanked herself away from the Queen, eyes wide and furious. “You would curse me?! I'd rather die!”_

 

_Red lips split in a wide, knowing smile, claw-like fingers reaching down to lightly cup over the Hunter's face. A thin line of blood followed the path of her thumbnail, dripping in slow drops to land on the Queen's thumb. She brought the drops to her lips, licking them up like a cat with cream. “Precisely.”_

 

* * *

 

 

Coffee forgotten, Emma just stared at the old wolf before her. “...She Turned you?!”

 

Nodding, Granny shrugged. “It was what she did to Hunters, back then. And it's my own fault for trying it. It's... well, it was horrible, then, but it's brilliant, when you think about it. We certainly pose no threat to her now.” She sighed, taking off her glasses and rubbing the bridge of her eyes.

 

Placing a hand on Emma's shoulder to try and deflate the look of horror on the blonde Hunter's face, Ruby smiled at her. “You know, a lot of us were worried about you, when you came to town. We thought you might be trying it yourself. To kill Regina, I mean.”

 

Emma gaped at her.

 

Replacing her glasses, Granny shot her a knowing little smile. “Never thought I'd see the day that she'd Claim a Hunter instead. Seems to have worked out, though, since you seem so hell bent on keeping her alive.”

 

“I don't-”

 

“ I think it's wonderful, by the way,” Ruby grinned. “You two, I mean. You're good for her.”

 

It took Emma a minute to realize just what the younger wolf was saying, and she sputtered like a forgotten tea kettle. “What? No, I-I just... I want to keep her safe, is all.”

 

Chuckling, Granny shared a glance with her granddaughter, and the two of them turned a matching Look onto the blonde. “You don't have to lie Emma. We know you like her.”

 

The impersonation of a teapot continued, leaving Emma gasping: “What, god no!”

 

Ruby shook her head, just forced to laugh at the denial. “I'm sure. Which is why you're getting horny as hell right now, thinking about her.”

 

“I am not!”

 

“Please, Emma. Your face is flushing, your pupils are dilated, your pulse is elevated, and your breathing has deepened. It's okay.”

 

Emma thought her face might indeed be reddening, but it it was it was only from rage. She felt herself about to boil over.

 

Which is why it was probably a good thing when Granny put a hand around Ruby and led her toward the door. “We'll leave you get on with your work. Got to find out who's trying to off your Queen so you can keep her around, right?” she winked.

 

The door shut with a sudden click behind them, leaving Emma mercifully alone. With roiled, unsettled thoughts, she gave a ragged sigh and turned towards the next group of records. In her haste to get the previous conversation out of her head, she grabbed a little too quickly, and the pile fell to the floor in a whoosh of paper. “Shit,” she groaned, and bent to reach for them.

 

She stopped mid-grab, a small wooden box now revealed, previously hidden beneath the pile she'd just dropped. Curious, she picked it up. There was a note card sticking prominently out of the corner, and Emma tugged it out, glancing over what was written in Kathryn's easy, concise hand:

 

_'For Regina, when she needs it.'_

 

Hesitating for only a moment, her fingers lifted the lid of the box, pulling out the sole contents with a furrowed brow. It was an old daguerreotype of a couple dressed in Victorian clothes, staring at one another and looking very obviously in love. The gilt frame was worn away in places but the image itself looked brand new. The woman pictured looked vaguely familiar, but the man was a stranger. Leaning in closer to get a better look at the features of the woman, Emma's eyes widened in shock. Beneath the high-piled hair and multiple layers of lace and velvet was a much happier-looking Regina. She was so lost in staring at the bright smile on Regina's face that she didn't even notice when the woman herself stepped into the room. But she noticed when the image practically flew out of her hands.

 

“Does that belong to you?” Regina snapped, slamming her free hand down on the box while the other cradled the image as if it were a child.

 

Startled, Emma gasped, rising from the chair so fast that it tipped over. “What are you do-?” she shook her head, deciding it didn't matter. “I'm just ...trying to figure out who would want to kill you.”

 

Regina growled, eyes burning into the blonde's before she finally looked away at the image in her hand. “I'm sure the list is long. But he isn't on it.” She caressed the frame without thought, her fingers tracing over the edges of the curling gilt, not daring to risk injury to the image by touching the daguerreotype itself.

 

Emma watched as pain crossed over the Queen's face, staring intently down at the picture. Swallowing, the Hunter took a breath, knowing that this was a chance to uncover more information. And information was what she desperately needed. “...Regina? If there's even a chance that something about this man could be related to whoever's trying to kill you... whoever _poisoned_ our son....”

 

As lost in the image as Emma had been only a moment ago, Regina continued to drag her fingers slowly over the frame, as if she was touching a piece of the man displayed. But at Emma's mention of what had happened to Henry, Regina's breath hitched in her throat. Henry was the magic word, the only thing that Emma had found that could get Regina to do anything. “...His name was Daniel,” she finally whispered. “He's dead.”

 

Nodding, Emma waited for the Queen to continue. When she didn't, the Hunter took a breath, trying not to become irritated. She looked again at Regina's face, watching as expressions she'd only ever seen reserved for Henry danced across her featured. But under it all was a profound sense of loss. A memory flashed through her head. Regina, just after Kathryn had died: _“This is why I don't Claim humans. You die far too easily.”_ And Emma understood, finally. She understood everything. Daniel had been human.

“What happened?” she asked as gently as she could.

 

Regina was silent for a long, long moment, as if weighing whether or not she should say. On one side of her mind seemed to be Daniel, and on the other, Henry. She made her choice. “I was betrayed,” she began and anger crept into her voice. A calm, cold, dangerous kind of anger. The kind that could destroy worlds, if it chose. “A Hunter uncovered my location and fed it to ...another, older Queen. One who was determined to destroy everything I loved and rip it away from me. She manged to get through my wards without my detection. Daniel tried to intervene, and she laughed and ripped his heart out of his chest while I could do nothing but watch.”

 

Green eyes closed, unable to take the sheer amount of hurt that was flashing across the Queen's face. “God, Regina...” she murmured, taking in a ragged breath. But she said no more, knowing that the brunette would not want her pity. Instead, she cleared her throat, and re-focused on the issue at hand.

“So... this older Queen. What happened to her?”

 

Shaking her head, Regina finally re-opened the box and placed the daguerreotype of herself and her love back inside. Only when that was done did she speak again. “I have no idea. I spent... decades Hunting her myself, sent dozens of vampires after her. But I never found her, and I haven't heard anything of her for centuries. I'd assumed she finally died.”

 

Warning bells began to go off in Emma's head. “And... if she didn't?”

 

Another shake of the Queen's head. “I know what you're getting at, Miss Swan. She wouldn't be the one behind this.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because if she were, she wouldn't be trying to kill me directly, dear. She'd want to destroy me first, Take away everything I love. Go after...” Regina's eyes widened. “Unless... I really was never the target at all.”

 

Emma seemed to understand at the same moment. “Henry.”

 

Before they could so much as reach the door, Regina's cell phone began to ring. She snatched at it, swallowing when she saw the caller ID- 'Storybrooke Elementary.' She answered it with a breathless, “Where is he?!”

 

She listened to a very short sentence. Then the phone fell from her hand.

 

Snatching it up, Emma practically screamed into the phone. “Henry! Where's Henry?!”

 

She heard David Nolan's apologetic voice on the phone. “Emma? He's just.. gone. Henry's gone.”

 

Emma felt her heart stop. “We... we'll be right there,” she gasped like a beached fish, trying to force air back into her lungs.

 

David faltered, his voice breaking. “Emma... Mary Margaret, she- it doesn't look good,” he fumbled, hauntingly. “And... there's... a note, Emma.”

 

“What does it say?!”

 

“It's for Regina... It just says 'A heart for a heart.'”

 

From beside her, Emma heard Regina draw in a shaking, spasming breath. Her arms were around her own shoulders, clutching herself so tightly it looked like it had to hurt, and the only word Emma was able to make out, when she finally spoke, was a sobbing, curse-filled: “...Cora.”


	11. I'll Give You What You Need to Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the enemy is unmasked. Literally.

 

** Chapter XI **

 

“This isn't possible...” Regina was murmuring, every breath and word coming out a forced, choking gasp. Emma had seen this behavior before from people huddled in their safe houses, rocking themselves back and forth as darkness swept over the land. She'd never thought to see it in a vampire. Regina was terrified. _Great._ So not what was needed right now.

 

She could understand, and any other time she might well be sympathetic to Regina's feelings. But not when her son was missing and fear would get them nowhere. She had to pull Regina out of it. Kneeling before the Queen, she took a deep breath and lightly pulled the woman's hands away from her own shoulders. “Regina?” she tried to begin as gently as possible. “Who is Cora? She's not just some other, older Queen, is she?”

 

“Does it matter?” Regina all but whimpered, her body continuing to wrack with tiny sobs. Her voice was like a child's- small and weak. Hands normally so strong hung limply in Emma's, as if her body was physically incapable of movement. “...Henry. She has Henry.”

 

Growling, Emma's gentility failed, her fingers digging into Regina's and making her wince in pain. Good. Pain was good; anything but debilitating fear was good. “Snap out of it!” she snarled, shaking the Queen. “Yeah, she has Henry, and we are going to get him back! So you need to stand up and pull yourself together.” Regina cried out in pain, and Emma watched as her eyes sharpened, the cloudiness departing as her mind slowly returned to itself. The Hunter nodded. “Good. Now we are going to find our son, and kill this bitch who took him. Okay?”

 

The Queen gave a slow nod of understanding acquiescence, but said nothing. Emma wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad thing. Whoever this Cora was, she obviously had enough of an effect on Regina to reduce the normally unflappable woman to an almost child-like state of powerlessness. There was definitely a long history between the two vampire Queens. But she couldn't worry about that now.

 

Pausing to resettle herself, Emma closed her eyes and took a breath. She needed that moment before she turned back to the Queen, to pull her to her feet and smack her, if it took that, for Regina to whoosh them to the school. “Regina-” She honestly wasn't expecting it when Regina stood of her own volition, wrapping an arm around the blonde and hoisting her up to rush off towards the school.

 

Gasping at the suddenness, Emma's eyes squeezed shut and she wrapped her arms around the vampire Queen's neck, holding on tightly before relaxing just a little. She would never get used to this. “So,” she began, “tell me about Cora.” She wasn't sure if this was really the best time for conversation, with trees and houses and shops blurring by while Regina ran. But talking helped her to forget just how fast they were really going, and she really didn't want to throw up when they stopped again.

 

“She wants to rip apart everything I love,” she said, her voice a little quieter than normal but lacking the shaky, childish terror of earlier. “And now that she knows where Storybrooke is, she will stop at _nothing_ until she does so.”

 

“Why? Why does she hate you so much?”

 

“...In her twisted mind, she probably thinks she's doing me a favor.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

_**Somewhere outside of Storybrooke** _

 

Henry struggled as he was practically thrown into a sort of throne room, a single light source illuminating only the center of the floor, casting the rest into shadow. The two overdressed vampire guards- covered completely from head to toe- were quite eager to be rid of their squirming, kicking, biting charge. Perhaps a little overzealous, they tossed him into the center of that light source. Like a cat, the boy landed on all fours, quickly getting to his feet and whirling to leap back at the guards as fast as his little body could.

 

From the shadowed wall, a dark chuckle filled the room. “My, he's certainly full of energy for someone supposedly poisoned.”

 

Both guards were fighting off attacks from the boy, one trying to pin his arms to his sides while the other clasped his large hand over fangs desperate to snap. “He's been like this the whole way, majesty,” said one. “Your ...informant must have lied, my Queen,” offered the other.

 

Henry paid little attention to the exchange, continuing to bite and claw at the two older vamps as much as he could. Snapping his teeth under the hand, he lunged forward and bit, and the guard howled in pain, dropping him. The boy fell back to the ground in a scramble of scrawny limbs.

 

“Enough of this!” commanded the voice from the shadows, “Leave him.” The guards fell back.

 

Stilling, Henry felt that voice tugging at his arms and legs, whispering in his head to stop fighting. He did, but only after giving one last pointed kick to the shin of the nearest guard, glaring in the direction of the voice and making it abundantly clear that he did _not_ need to obey it. Taking a moment to adjust his clothes and smooth down the wrinkles as he had seen his mother do countless times, he slowly stepped a little closer to the shadowy area, eyes quickly adjusting. He choked back a gasp. A figure was seated on a throne, resplendently dressed in reds and creams- a gown fit for another era. On her head was an elaborate mask, hiding all of her face from view but her eyes, which glittered in the low light.

 

“...Who are you?”

 

The masked head tilted a bit to the side. “My name is Cora. I'm your grandmother, dear.”

 

“I don't have a grandmother.”

 

“Of course you do, dear boy. Your  _mother,_ ” and the word was practically spat out as a curse. “Has simply never told you about me. But family always finds one another, dear. And I won't be letting you go, now. So if you keep fighting, you're only going to end up getting hurt.”

 

Henry raised his chin, his eyes defiant as he glared at the woman on the throne. “...I'm not afraid of you. You can try to kill me, but my moms're gonna come for me and then _you'll_ be dead.”

 

Cora seemed a bit too involved in laughing to quite catch his use of the plural. She clapped gloved hands, delighted. “So brave! But I have no plans on killing you, dear. Not yet. I know she's coming for you; I'm counting on it. I won't rip your little heart from your chest until your mother comes bursting in that door and can watch me do it herself.”

 

His mouth dropped open, words of bravado attempting to come, but failing. He swallowed, unable to face even her mask, and looked down at the marble floor, determined not to let the tears burning in his eyes fall down his face.

 

“But until then, dear boy, you need to keep up your strength. Here,” she snapped her fingers, and from outside the room, Henry could hear signs of a struggle. Frantic, pleading cries filled the air, drawing nearer, until finally the door opened and two guards appeared, half-dragging a bucking, crying little girl between them. She looked no older than Henry himself. With wide eyes, his head snapped up, looking to the masked Queen in confusion and no small amount of horror.

 

She merely chuckled, “I thought you'd prefer a young one.” Eyes glittering behind her mask, Cora snapped her fingers again, and the girl was forced down onto her knees before Henry. “Drink from her.”

 

“She's... for me?” Henry gulped, his eyes darting back to the girl.

 

“Drink from her,” Cora repeated, a layer of icy threat dripping into her voice and her eyes. “Or I will.”

 

Forcefully, one of the guards swept away mussed and uncombed hair, exposing the girl's neck. Growling, the boy glared at him, snapping forward to slap his hand away. “Don't touch her!” he snarled. “Leave her alone!”

 

Baring his fangs in anger, the guard turned his attention to the boy, fist raised to strike.

 

“Stop!” Cora ordered, raising her hand. The guard froze, pulling back and looking at his Queen. “Let him,” she ordered. “I want to see what he does.”

 

Henry had barely even batted an eye at the implied violence to himself. His sole attention was on the girl. Trembling and whimpering, tears were pouring down her face, and Henry couldn't help but lean forward and brush them away. This close, he could see her pulse beating rapidly beneath her skin, could practically smell her blood. He closed his eyes for a moment, fighting down the urge to sink his teeth into her. _It is our choices,_ he told himself, echoing words his mother had told him time and time again, _that define us as people and not monsters._ “It's okay,” he whispered, so honestly and earnestly that she actually looked up at him. He smiled, letting her tears fall on his hand and stopping to smooth her matted hair. His mother did it often, whenever he was upset. “I won't let them hurt you. I'm Henry. What's your name?”

 

“...Grace,” she breathed, eyes flickering wildly over his face. “...Are you going to bite me now?”

 

Henry's glanced to Cora, and she looked back at him behind her mask, tilting her head and making his answer abundantly clear. This was some sort of test for him, he knew. And if he failed, he knew she'd likely kill Grace.

 

“Yeah,” he offered with an apologetic little smile. “But don't worry. It's not going to hurt.” He locked his eyes with Grace's, slowly leaning forward and giving her time to get used to the idea of his closeness. With another little smile, Henry reached for her wrist only, lightly taking it in his hand. Her breathing hitched, her chest rising and falling rapidly. He brought her wrist to his lips, closing his eyes as he remembered what his mother had taught him the evening before. Taking his time, he sunk his fangs into her flesh, gently, and drank from her.

 

She tasted different than Emma- lighter, somehow. And there was less of that feeling of euphoria for him than there had been before, or perhaps it was simply that he wasn't near death. Still, the memory of his mother's voice rang in his ears, and as he took from Grace, he also gave back, allowing the best parts and memories he had to shine through into her. Her eyes closed, her lips parting to release a contented sigh. Henry liked the way she looked when she wasn't scared- her face relaxed and carefree the way a child's should be. He focused on her, making sure he was careful to observe her pulse. When it slowed, he pulled away, giving a last lingering sweep of his tongue over her skin.

 

Grace was smiling, her face practically glowing as she gave another satisfied little groan and leaned forward against him. “I didn't think it would feel like that,” she murmured, giving him a hug. “I thought it would be scary.”

 

“It doesn't have to be,” he told her, hugging her back. He looked beyond her, over at Cora, and his face suddenly grew very hard for such a young boy. “Vampires don't have to be monsters.”

 

The mask fell away, allowing Henry to look on the true face of the woman who called herself his grandmother for the first time. To his credit, he didn't flinch, though was honestly surprised that the mask wasn't actually hiding some kind of physical deformity. Regally, Cora rose from her throne, descending down the single step of her dais and coming within a few feet of the two children. On instinct, Henry twisted himself, putting Grace behind him. Cora raised an eyebrow. “As I thought,” she shook her head, sighing reproachfully. “My daughter's filled your head with nonsensical ideas like love and understanding and 'taking blood, not life.'” She laughed at the ridiculousness of it, and then there was only a blur of motion, and Grace was pulled away from his grasp before he could blink. “This?” Cora laughed, clutching the now standing girl in front of her like she was some sort of doll. One arm wrapped around her front while the other cruelly tangled in her hair, caring nothing for the scream of pain the girl emitted. “This is food, and nothing more.” To punctuate her statement, Grace's head was jerked to one side by her hair, and Cora sank her teeth into her neck.

 

“Grace!” Henry lunged, blurring himself to try to wrench the girl away from the Queen, but the guards were instantly at his sides, gripping his arms painfully back. He fought- kicking and screaming out the girl's name- even turning his head to sink his teeth into one of the hands at his shoulders, but he could not get free. The hand he had bit jerked away, instead grasping the back of his head and preventing him from looking away. Forcing him to watch the girl's face contort in pain, her body spasming as dark blood leaked out from around Cora's lips, soaking into the blue of Grace's dress.

 

“Hen-nry...” she wheezed, hands clutching the air in front of her as she tried to reach for him. They fell to her sides a moment later. Her skin began to pale, her screams growing soft and strangled as Cora's fangs dug ever-deeper, head bobbing as she bit again and again to drag as much blood as she could to the surface. When she was finally satisfied, the Queen simply dropped the girl like so much dead weight, and Grace fell with a sickeningly wet thud, a small pool of her own blood dribbling out on the marble floor.

 

Tongue darting out, Cora flicked at the edges of her red lips, reaching out into the air with one hand until another vampire rushed forward to place a starkly white handkerchief into it. Dabbing at the edges of her lips, the Queen looked down at her dress, pleased to see that it had avoided any splatters, and then returned to her throne, heels clacking on the floor as she barked an order over her shoulder. “Release him.”

 

Henry fell to his knees, tears stinging his eyes as he reached out to touch the girl on the floor. Her skin was already cooling, her eyes glazing over in death. With a howl, he clutched her to him, cradling her head in his arms and sobbing out her name.

 

Cora let him cry for a moment, then snapped her fingers again. The guards pulled the dead girl out of his arms, one of them tossing her over his shoulder like a sack of flour while the other held Henry back.

 

“You're a monster!” he spat at the Queen, his eyes alight with fire and pain.

 

She only shook her head and sighed. “Don't fall in love with your food, dear. It only ends in pain.”

 

* * *

 

**Storybrooke**

 

So far, her search of the school grounds had been pretty useless. When they'd arrived, she and Regina had split up, the Queen heading to find Mary Margaret and question David while Emma and Granny did a perimeter search and looked for any sign of Henry. They'd found nothing, but Granny was still looking. Emma headed inside to catch up with Regina and see if there was anything of importance to be found. When she could see nothing in the entryway, she headed to the hallway where Mary Margaret had been found. Walking over to the still form of the vampire, the Hunter sunk down, crouching near David to where was holding Mary Margaret's hand. “How's she doing?” the blonde asked.

 

“She's still unconscious, but she'll probably pull through.” He shook his head, his voice nearly robotic. “Regina said there was a massive amount of blood lost around her chest, like someone had tried to pull her heart out.”

 

A flash of memory burned behind Emma's eyes, and she relived the battle outside the gates of the town, watching Regina do that very thing to the dozen or so rogues she'd dispatched. She shook her head to chase away the memory, clearing her throat. “...Tried?” she echoed.

 

David shrugged, taking a deep breath and not allowing his eyes to veer from the unconscious vampire's face. “Apparently it didn't take.”

 

Emma nodded, confused at that, but glad for the sake of her friends that it seemed whoever had attempted the heart-ripping was not as skilled at it as Regina was. “Where's Regina?” she asked automatically, looking around as if to spot her.

 

“Questioning Sidney now, I think. Just... follow the shouting.”

 

It proved to be sound advice, for Regina was only a few hallways away, her hand pressing the other vampire into a row of lockers. “What the hell do you mean 'he was just gone'?!” Regina snapped, shaking Sidney like a ragdoll as she gripped his shirt, the fabric bunching in her fingers. From the sidelines, a few of the other teachers gaped in silence, watching as the Queen disciplined her chief adviser- the one she'd tasked with guarding Henry while he was at school. “How could he just be gone?! Weren't you watching?!”

 

“Of course I was, my Queen!” Sidney hissed, his eyes wide with terror and panic. “I was only gone a for a moment- I heard something in the next corridor and when I returned, he was gone! I don't know how! He was just gone!”

 

“You keep saying that, Sidney!” she snarled, fangs bared in her irritation as she shook the little toady.

 

Breaking into a run, Emma quickly darted up. “Regina!” she shouted, grasping the Queen around the wrist and staring at her intently. “Let him go. This isn't helping.”

 

Snarling, the Queen glared at Emma for daring to interrupt, but after a second or two, the red seemed to slowly fade from her eyes, and she released her grip. Sidney fell back, a hand moving to rub at his throat. Regina turned away, and Emma gently placed a hand on her shoulder. She kept her voice low, knowing Regina probably wouldn't want anyone else to hear this, but feeling that it most definitely _n_ _eeded_ saying. “Look, Regina. I know you want to find him. I do, too. But getting this mad won't accomplish anything.”

 

Dark eyes were near brimming with unshed tears, and Regina crossed her arms in front of her chest, gripping herself tightly as she slowly turned back to face the blonde. “No, it won't.”

 

“What do we do?”

 

“I don't know.” Shaking her head in uncertainty, Regina looked up at the ceiling, closing her eyes and rubbing at her temples.

 

“Okay. Let's think about this a different way. How could Cora have gotten into town? Or hell, the school?”

 

“She couldn't. I doubt she did. She probably only had an agent do it for her.” Then, suddenly, her eyes snapped back open. “Sidney!” she hissed.

 

“My Queen?” Sidney jumped, his eyes wide. “I never-”

 

Regina waved him off, another goal in mind. “David said there was a note. Where is it?”

 

“Oh!” Sighed the other vampire, giving a small smile of relief as he dug into the breast pocket of his jacket, pulling out a bag with a small slip of paper inside. . “It's... um.... here.”

 

Taking the paper without a second glance, Regina took a moment to re-center herself, before finally opening the bag and removing its contents. The handwriting alone gave her pause, throwing her back in time as she stared at it, the faint curling of the single letter C signed at the bottom so incredibly, terribly familiar. “I thought so,” she murmured, closing her eyes to scrub the image of that taunting letter out of her mind. She turned back to Sidney. “Get Eugenia,” she commanded, and he rushed to obey.

 

“What is it?” Emma asked, once again placing a calming hand on Regina's shoulder, saying nothing when the other woman leaned slightly into the gesture. “What are you doing?” she glanced down at the note, the rust-colored words written in stark contrast to the crisp whiteness of the paper. “How can Granny help?”

 

“It's written in blood.”

 

Green eyes widened in comprehension. That seemed like an amateur mistake for a vampire to make, especially one who so frightened Regina. “So... we can find her by tracking it. That seems too good to be true.”

 

“It undoubtedly is. Cora....” and Regina hesitated, her eyes drifting down to the note and then back up again to meet Emma's eyes. “...She won't have made this too hard. She wants me to find him.”

 

Nodding, Emma swallowed, the implications all too clear. “That's what the note means; she wants to exchange Henry's heart for someone else's....” Emma sighed, running a hand through her hair as she put two and two together. “Yours.”

 

Nodding, Regina's eyes were locked on the note in her hands, not even bothering to look up to see Emma have her revelation. “If that's what she wants in exchange for Henry, she'll get it.”

 

“...How do you figure that?” Emma nearly growled, a hand instinctively moving to her nearest gun at the thought of anyone ripping out the heart of her son. Or Regina.

 

The Queen just offered her a small, tired smile, noting the gesture and oddly finding it a little endearing, if misplaced. "Because I'll give it to her, Miss Swan.”

 

* * *

 

 

Eyes burning with fury and pain, Henry finally just snarled, unable to take the unfairness of it all, and rushed at the Queen on her throne.

 

“Oh, honestly....” Cora rolled her eyes, raising her hand with an authoritative: “Stop!”

 

He did not. He felt the compunction of her voice pulling at his limbs, but he paid it no mind, rushing forward. Her eyes widened in shock just in time to watch him slam into her with enough force to send her throne toppling off its dais. They went flying to the ground, Henry above the Queen and beating his fists against her chest, digging his fingernails into her skin, biting and kicking and doing anything to make her hurt the way he was hurting.

 

Unaccustomed to any actual physical confrontation, Cora was sluggish in her attempts to pry him off, and the boy actually managed to get a few decent hits in before the guards intervened and she had the presence of mind to scream “Sun him!” Raising her mask to her face just in time for the ultraviolet lamp overhead to be turned on, the room was briefly plunged into a blinding, burning haven of pain.

 

Henry didn't even notice, continuing to struggle as the guards latched on, not betraying so much as a hiss as UV light seared over his unprotected body, leaving absolutely no damage. The same could not be said for Cora, who screamed as the light hit her as well, the mask not protecting her anywhere near as much as the full body suits of her guards did them. They managed to pry Henry off their Queen, one of them smacking the flat of his hand against the base of the boy's skull. Henry gave a yelp of pain and then fell limp.

 

“Turn it off!” Cora screamed again, and the lamp was extinguished. Panting and scorched to the point that her skin was crisping, Cora nevertheless forced a smile as she rose back to her feet. The few bones broken by the boy were already healing, but the welts from the sun lamp would take longer. She didn't seem to care, staring at her grandson thoughtfully.

 

Her gloved hand trailed over the boy's cheek, caressing over unconscious flesh with an utterly delighted grin. “Oh, this... this is wonderful! My daughter found herself a baby Sunwalker to raise....” Her voice trailed off, mind whirling with the implications. She turned to her guards, a dangerously pleased twinkle in her eyes.

 

“Ready the equipment for exsanguination. We might be beginning ahead of schedule.”

 


	12. I'll Keep You Warm Against the Cold Night Air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Regina has her first taste of Emma.

**Chapter XII**

 

**Storybrooke**

 

“What do you mean you're 'going to give it to her'?” Emma's hands were on her hips, watching as Regina began pacing again, if you could call it that. Whooshing from corner to corner of the front of the school, pausing for half a second, and then whooshing back.

 

“Just what I said, Miss Swan,” she spat out in answer, coming to a halt before the Hunter. “ _Cora,”_ and there was such venom in the tone around that one word that Emma actually took a step back, “has my son. If she wants me in exchange for him, then that's exactly what she'll get.”

 

Emma raised an eyebrow, not believing what she was hearing. “You can't honestly be considering just waltzing up to her once we find her and just giving yourself to her!” she exclaimed. Her hands were clenching and unclenching over and over, fingers itching with the need to do something. Or, preferably, kill something.

 

“Do you have a better idea?!” Regina spat.

 

“Hell, yeah! We go in, find our son, get him and get out!”

 

The Queen's arms wrapped around her own shoulders again, and it almost looked to Emma that she was fighting the urge to rock herself like a child. “It isn't that simple,” she finally said, quietly. Her voice was tiny again. Fear... or memories, were taking over.

 

Quickly, Emma moved closer. Her hands reached out, lightly placing themselves on either of Regina's shoulders, stopping her in her pacing so she could lock eyes with the vampire. “Yeah,” she assured her. “It is. We are going to get him back, Regina. I don't care how dangerous she is or what she's done in the past, but we are going to kill this bitch and get _our_ son home. ...Together.” Her mouth fumbled around that last word as if even the taste was something foreign, but she managed to get it out, taking a deep breath and squeezing Regina's shoulders in what she hoped was reassurance.

 

A tremor rippled through the Queen. Emma watched as the darkness receded a bit from brown eyes, her higher brain functions seeming to return. Regina sighed and finally nodded. If she was going to say something else, she was stopped when a sudden whoosh of motion came into the periphery of their vision.

 

Regina jerked away from Emma's touch as if it physically burned, just in time for the blur to slow enough to reveal itself to be Sidney. Her gaze instantly hardened when no wolves came running up in the moments following. “Well?” she snarled. “Where's Eugenia?”

 

Looking incredibly uncomfortable, Sidney swallowed visibly, speaking in a quiet, halting voice. “...She's... dead, my Queen.”

 

“What?!” Emma couldn't be sure if it was her voice or Regina's that made the vampire cringe, but they'd both whirled on him and glared with demanding eyes, so it may well have been both.

 

Sidney couldn't even stammer out a reply, his eyes bulged wide in their sockets. “Sh-she...”

 

Regina snarled, cutting him off with a wave of her hand and a snap of her fangs. “Never mind, you idiot! Move, now!”

 

Jumping to comply, Sidney sped off in the direction of the diner. It was only a moment for Emma to wrap her arms around Regina is a position that was really becoming far more comfortable than it had any right to be, and they were whooshing off after him.

 

 

* * *

 

**Somewhere outside of Storybrooke**

 

Henry had never been afraid of the dark. It probably came from the fact that he spent most of his life in it, but darkness itself had always been a good thing- the beginning of the day, rather than the end. The time to wake up and play and go to school and see his moms.

 

But he was beginning to truly dread the light. The dark was the only thing there had been in the small room he'd awoken in, alone. He'd screamed at the door for a while, once he had found it, and pounded his fists against it in an effort to knock it down. When that had proved ineffective, he'd huddled himself against the wall and tried to be brave and wait. His mothers would come for him. His faith in that was unwavering.

 

His voice, however, was not, when the other screams started- the sobbing, wrenching pleading and bargaining and frantic cries of 'oh god, no!' that came from rooms near his own. His tears slipped quietly down his face as he imagined another Grace. They fell even more when the screams ended abruptly, fizzling out into the dark. And he was still alone.

 

And then came the light. It was only jarring, at first- a sudden blaze of blinding white to eyes that had become so used to darkness. His corneas felt on fire, and he hastily shielded his eyes, hissing in pain from the brightness alone.

 

It took a while for the other effects of the UV to kick in. And he knew that was what it was when the faint sensation of buzzing began beneath his skin. There was no shelter to be found in the room, nothing but him and the glaring, stinging overhead light. The knowledge was unsettling, but did not make him afraid. Not yet. He could endure it in silence for hours before it became anything more than uncomfortable. He'd fed recently, after all.

 

Now, the itching was getting unbearable. His hands clenched into fists so tight he drew blood in small crescents from his own palms, desperately trying to avoid the itch to scratch at himself. His mind was growing fuzzy, and it was becoming increasingly hard to stay conscious. He felt dazed, swooning a bit against the wall, but on one point, his mind stayed resolute:

 

His mothers would come. They had to.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The door to the back room was hanging open on its hinges, the papers Emma had been going through not hours before now scattered around every horizontal surface.

 

As soon as her feet had once again hit solid ground, Emma was out of Regina's arms and rushing toward the fallen form of Granny Lucas. Beside her hand, the Alpha's trusty crossbow was snapped in two.

 

Regina had a different destination in mind, quickly zooming around the room and frantically rifling through sheaves of papers. She gave a soft cry of relief and clutched a box to her chest before tucking it safely away inside her blazer. The box, Emma realized, that contained the daguerreotype of herself and Daniel.

 

“Regina,” Emma called over her shoulder, her own hands busy gently rolling the fallen woman onto her back and checking for a pulse. She fought the urge to cringe. Granny's chest was awash with blood, a fist-sized hole ripped into the front of her sweater. Her neck was also bleeding. Bite marks.

 

“Vampire,” the Hunter diagnosed with a snarl, and her hand instantly went to her gun, pulling the pistol out and cocking it. “Cora?”

 

Regina's attention now back to the real task at hand, the Queen knelt down at Emma's side, lightly brushing the Hunter's hands away so she could inspect the wounds herself. She gave a faint hiss. It only took a glance to know it hadn't been Cora. Regina shook her head, “No, but we're meant to think so. This was done by the same vampire who attacked Mary Margaret. The heart's been exposed and tugged, but it's still in place.” One of her hands hovering above the wound, Regina closed her eyes. “...She's alive.”

 

Forgotten just outside the door, Sidney gaped. “She is?”

 

Regina's eyes snapped back open, falling on him. “Fetch Graham and Ruby. And be careful. The attacker can't have gotten far.” She closed her eyes again, raising both hands over the wound now. Her lips began to move, but no sound fell from them.

 

Shifting his weight nervously from one foot to the other, Sidney looked extremely uncomfortable, but cleared his throat again.“...Perhaps I should stay with you, my Queen? It might be-”

 

Hissing at being interrupted, Regina's attention clicked back into place, focusing on her lackey. The Queen glared at him with all the intensity of the wall of light she and Maleficent had conjured only a few nights ago.“Are you disobeying me, Sidney?”

 

“...Of course not, your majesty.”

 

She nodded, not pleasantly. “I thought not. Go.”

 

He went.

 

Emma titled her head, frowning. A memory was tugging at the corners of her mind, just out of reach, but whatever it was eluded her grasp.

 

Taking a moment to center herself, Regina's eyes once again closed, and her concentration began anew. Emma didn't even watch, her mind whirling in a haze of its own jumbled thoughts. She tried to make sense of them while Regina worked.

 

Palms once more raised above the bleeding werewolf, Regina slowed her mind, thinking of little but the warmth of the sun. The sun was the source for all life on the planet, and even when set, its presence could be seen and felt in all living things. It took a skilled hand to know how to utilize that presence, how to draw the energy like poison from a wound and mold it, shape it into something that could be used. Regina had centuries of practice. In mere moments, her hands began to glow.

 

With a choked gasp, Granny suddenly inhaled sharply, sitting up quickly enough that she smacked her head against Regina's.

 

Shocked out of her spell, Regina gave a squeak of pain and roughly shoved her hand down over the Alpha's collarbone. “Stay _down,_ damn you,” she groused, nursing a bonked nose that was already perfectly healed. “I'm not finished.” She gave another small snarl and attempted to find her energies again, to draw them back to her after they'd been so forcibly scattered.

 

Granny seemed dazed, blinking her eyes open slowly and looking down at the hand on her chest. As if she expected to see it pass right through flesh that was newly knit back together. “...You healed me?” she gasped in wonder.

 

“Obviously.” Had Regina not been busy, she may well have shrugged. As it was, her fingers flexed, and the remaining solar energies slid back into Eugenia, repairing the rest of the damage. When finished, she sagged a bit, weary. Healing always took a large toll on her.

 

Granny found it in her to smile, hesitantly raising her own hand to her recent injury and inspecting the not-damage.“Why, Regina,” she gave a small, knowing chuckle. “Getting soft in your old age?”

 

Rolling her eyes, the Queen found it hard not to smile back, and instead shook her head, tossing any stray hairs back into place. “Hardly,” she mused, and smoothed imaginary wrinkles from her shirt. “But it's taken me this long to get used to you.” Her tone of voice could almost have been playful, repeating lines Granny herself had used only a few nights prior. “I'd hate to have to find myself a new Alpha,” she smirked.

 

“Hah!”

 

Smiling in earnest, Regina sat back on her heels and rose to her feet. Or attempted to. She swooned dizzily, and dulled reflexes barely caught the edge of the table to pull herself upright.

 

Granny frowned, rising herself and pulling the ragged edges of her clothes together over her chest. “You look tired,” she said again. “I'll get you a pick-me-up. I think I have some in the kitchen.”

 

“That won't be neces-” Regina began, steadying herself enough to release the table and turning back to see the old werewolf already gone. She shook her head, another faint little smile on her lips. And only then did she notice Emma.

 

The blonde was sitting on the floor, her long legs folded under herself. Her lips were pursed, brow lined deeply in thought. Carefully, the Queen made her way over, and debated putting a hand on the other woman's shoulder before decided against it. Still, she'd prefer to avoid healing twice in the same night, and so very lightly asked, “Miss Swan? ...What are you doing?”

 

Emma didn't look up. “I'm _thinking._ Something doesn't add up.”

 

Another smile slid itself over Regina's features, and she leaned against the edge of the table. “Well, don't strain yourself, dear.”

 

Uneasy silence filled the room and the Queen began to get antsy again. Damn Eugenia and her caretaker urges. She needed the wolf to get back so they could get on with finding their son. Or, she mused, Sidney would be back with Graham and Ruby soon. Maybe they could....

 

“Sidney,” Emma finally said, the suddenness of it forcing a small spasm to rush through Regina's spine. She blinked, almost afraid that the blonde had read her mind before she shook off the idea as nonsense.

 

Looking at the brunette fully now, Emma's face was completely earnest, as if this was a life or death matter that would finally jar the jumbled mess of her thoughts into place. “You asked if he was disobeying you. Does he have that option?”

 

Nodding, Regina gave a faint little shrug. “If he truly wished to. He's not mine, I didn't Turn him. What does that have to do with-?”

 

 _There!_ Green eyes grew wide in shock, and then promptly clouded over. Emma fell forward onto the ground, unconscious.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Has he stopped fighting?” The door to the room next to Henry's opened, letting a faint bit of light from the hall spill in as booted feet scuffed quietly over the floors, breaking the silence that had filled the space since the screams had died down.

 

Keeping her eyes on the boy illuminated in a circle of UV light just on the other side of her silvered and shielded one-way mirror, Cora simply nodded in answer, holding out her hand to accept the glass of blood she knew was being offered. He handed it over immediately. Sipping from it, the Queen and her companion watched the boy in relative silence, taking supreme interest in the resolutely firm look on the boy's face, on the twitching of his lower jaw as his skin finally began to crack.

 

After a moment, the glass was drained. “So tell me, Hook.” She pressed a finger to her lips, wiping off the last traces of blood and allowing her tongue to dart out to collect it from her fingertip. “What do you think of my grandson?”

 

The man beside her tilted his head as if to study the boy more closely. In the semi-dark, his eyes glinted yellow just for a moment before returning to their more normal brown. “He's got a hell of a lot of spirit, I'll give him that. Though I think it's safe to say that your little poisoning trick didn't work on him at all.”

 

Cora scoffed, her grip on the now-empty glass of blood tightening in her irritation. “My spy was obviously incompetent. It's a wonder my daughter's put up with him for so long.”

 

Raising an eyebrow, a faint smirk fell over Hook's lips, and he came close to chuckling. “Did he poison your daughter instead, do you think?”

 

“I doubt it,” she sneered, as if such a mistake was beyond thought. “He's incompetent, yes. But he _cares_ for her, the fool.” She shook her head, close to laughing at the absurdity of it all. “I'm sure he made very certain there was no chance of her being poisoned.”

 

“Does he? Well, that's enough to make one wonder why he attempted it in the first place.”

 

“He had little choice, dear. I ordered it of him.” Cora smirked, finally tiring of holding the cup and reaching her hand out to force him to take it again. He did, of course, unthinking.

 

Blinking and twirling the empty cup between his fingers, the werewolf actually laughed, surprised. “I didn't think you could give orders to vampires that weren't yours... majesty.” The title was an afterthought, a quick appeasement to her vanity to get her to overlook the rest of his roguish behavior.

 

She was silent a long moment before answering, a long-nailed hand coming up to caress over her own face, as if in thought. Her fingers brushed over skin still tender and scarred from the UV lamp, and she sneered, her eyes locked onto the boy in the room before them. “They always have an option of disobeying. As I was ...reminded last night. But it takes a greater strength of character than our little poisoner possesses. And don't forget, dear: He isn't _Regina's_ , either.”

 

She turned away from the shielded glass, glancing at an operative in the corner. "Turn it off. He's had enough for now."

 

 

* * *

 

 

_She was dreaming again. She had to be. Around her shimmered the threads of a hundred different memories, each gleaming and echoing throughout... whatever space she was in. Her mind, maybe. She was moving too fast to make sense of any of it, though, and Emma spun around, dazed and disoriented. It all became a jumble, like the papers at Granny's. The memories crowded in around her, fighting for dominance and precedence, and it was all too much to understand or even try to sort through on her own. She screamed, but no sound emerged._

 

_And then it stopped. She got the distinct impression she was no longer alone. She felt it in the periphery of her consciousness, and looked around to see._

 

_Kathryn stood above her. She said nothing. The silence was blissful. She was was smiling, holding out a hand._

 

_Slowly, hesitantly, Emma took it, and Kathryn pulled her through the mire of her own memory, leading them as if with a definite goal. She'd have questioned it, but Emma now knew that she could not actually speak in this realm. Or her mind, or wherever the hell they were. So she simply followed. Kathryn led her to one memory in particular, keeping her from drifting on to others long enough to hear and see it. It was Regina, talking to her about Gold: “We had our... disagreements, and goodness knows a great number of people here detested him, but Gold was a Queen, and he was very much beloved by at least two people in this town.”_

 

_She was led to another memory: killing Gold. And then another- Regina telling her that she only knew of two other Queens who knew about Storybrooke, that one of them had lived there. The other, of course, was Cora. Eyes widening, Emma understood the significance. Gold and Regina had been the only two Queens in the town._

 

_Finally, she was led to look upon a last memory- a conversation with Kathryn herself that cemented everything, over drinks early one morning when Ruby and Mary Margaret had gone to bed. Emma listened as she was told how Sidney had been Claimed a long time ago. How he'd been turned, and his Queen had suddenly left in the middle of the night, leaving him with no one to turn to but Regina._

 

_She whirled to look at the Kathryn beside her, mouth gaping open in shock._

 

_Her friend only smiled at her again, the hand on her shoulder squeezing lightly in camaraderie. “Do you understand now, Emma?”_

 

“ _Emma?”_

 

“Emma!” Regina was gripping her shoulders, shaking her, and giving light slaps to her face.

 

Groggily, Emma felt her eyes fluttered open, staring up into a very concerned pair of brown eyes. “...Hey beautiful,” she half-murmured, her brain struggling to catch up with what it had just processed. Then, with a start, Emma shot up, gripping Regina with bruising intensity. “Sidney! It was Sidney!”

 

“What are you-?!” Regina's words died in her throat. A thin line of blood was dripping down from the corner of Emma's eyes, so terribly, tauntingly close to her own. The scent flooded her nostrils, overwhelming senses that were bone-weary from healing. Her fangs instantly extended, her tongue was past her lips before she could tell herself no. She propelled herself to close the rest of the distance between them and her tongue dragged itself along the red track.

 

The first taste of Emma's blood flooded into her mouth, buzzing over her tastebuds like the finest of wines.

 

With a nearly-pained sounding squeal, she realized far too late what she was doing, and dropped her grip. The startled Hunter toppled forward from her arms into an undignified heap. And then it was suddenly _Regina's_ mind that was buzzing, aflame with thoughts and images not her own. Emma's thoughts coursed through her body, traveling into her with the blood she'd just tasted.

 

Her mind was ablaze with images and one glaring accusation- Sidney.

 

Sidney, who had always been so loyal, so eager to please despite not really being hers. Sidney, who was supposed to have been guarding the wall the night of the attack, and who had struggled for long hours reportedly trying to get the grid back online. Allowing others to get inside the wall and provide a diversion to give him ample time to poison Regina's blood supply. Sidney, who had the means to do so, as he'd been invited into Regina's home, informing with her of the attack in her own bedroom. Sidney, who was there when Regina's strength had given out after the sunburst in the field, who had asked, alarmed, why Emma would not give the Queen her own blood. And, once he realized, had rushed off to get his Queen blood from his own, untainted supply.

 

Sidney, who had been charged with guarding Henry while he was at school tonight, and had taken him, attacking Mary Margaret in the process. Sidney, who had likewise obviously attacked Eugenia when he'd been ordered to fetch her.

 

Because he had not been Turned by Regina.

 

Regina collapsed onto hands and knees beside Emma, and then threw her head back and screamed. Granny came running into the room, blood bag in her hand. Seeing Regina and Emma both in states of collapse on the floor, she ran to them, glancing at Emma first to see if she was injured and then turning to the Queen once she'd affirmed she was not. The bag of blood was ripped open, and wordlessly handed over to an extremely disoriented Regina.

 

Dazed but otherwise okay, Emma knelt up, the back of her hand scrubbing away a mix of her own blood and the Queen's saliva from her cheek. Her eyes were glazed but trying to focus on the Queen, confused and incredibly disoriented about what the hell had just happened. “...Regina?” The question was tentative, her fingers hesitant as the weren't quite sure whether to reach for her or not. “...Are you-?”

 

Draining the bag dry, Regina's head fell to one side. Tears were falling in heavy drops from the vampire's eyes, her chest heaving as she glared daggers at the Hunter. “What,” she gasped. “The Hell. Did you _do_?!”

 

The Hunter shook her head, as baffled by her experience as Regina was. “I don't-”

 

“Never mind.” Taking note of Granny's presence, Regina seemed to shake herself, quickly rising to her feet and brushing herself off. “Later,” she promised Emma with an almost wary glance. She swallowed, looking as though about a thousand thoughts were still running through her mind, but she was electing to give attention to only one or two. She nodded her thanks to Granny, now on her feet and looking better than ever. “Whatever it was, Miss Swan, we'll deal with it later.” She growled with her fangs bared, brown eyes slipping away to be consumed by inky blackness. “We have a traitor to catch.”

 

The Hunter felt her shoulders slump just a little in defeat, but she nodded nonetheless, forcing herself into readiness much the same as the Queen had just done. Their son was still missing. Everything else could wait.

 

* * *

 

 

Sidney's end, Emma thought, had come too quickly. Granny had sniffed him out within minutes, holding him down with big wolf paws and sinking her canines deep into his legs when he'd tried to fight her off. She hadn't taken well to his attempt at ripping out her heart.

 

He'd admitted it all too easily, blubbering and sometimes screaming about how Gold had been his maker, how he'd fallen so easily in love with him, but his attentions were always elsewhere. When he wasn't obsessed with his quest to make more Sunwalkers, his focus had always been on Belle- his other Claimee. Sidney was always overlooked, taken only because he was a useful lackey to have in Gold's pocket. But still, he would not relent in his affections for the male Queen. He'd begged and pleaded for him to finally Turn him, hoping that once Gold had seen him as a vampire, he'd see how valuable an asset he truly was, and his affections could be returned.

 

It hadn't gone well, and then Gold had died. And it was all Henry's fault, because if he hadn't brought back the damn kid, and Gold hadn't succeeded in finally making another Sunwalker, then he never would have left again to find the birthmother. He'd snarled at Emma, then, telling her it was all her fault, that Gold had been so excited to learn she hadn't died, and had run off, determined to recreate his success.

 

And Sidney had been left all alone to turn to Regina instead. Regina, who was wonderful, and had taken him close into her confidence despite not being the one who had made him. He could forgive Regina for raising the boy who had been responsible for driving away his true Queen.

 

But Henry... he could not forgive him. Especially not when he went off and brought back the very reason Gold had died. He spat at Emma then, and she nearly had to be pulled off by Regina when she pulled out her nearest gun.

 

When Cora had approached him, Sidney told them, he'd had no problem obeying the orders of the Queen, so long as it was only Henry who suffered. But he'd put his foot down on the point that Regina would not be actually harmed. He'd also demanded that Emma be killed in the attack. And while it had certainly been attempted, no one had accounted for her skills. Her survival was, he said, a fluke. One he'd intended to correct himself, after Henry had been successfully taken.

 

It had been worth it, Emma decided, for the look on his face when she told him she'd been the one who had killed his precious Queen. His struggles against Granny's hold on him had been considerable, then, and Emma almost wished he'd broken free, just so she could have an excuse to kill him right there.

 

With a nod, Regina ordered the Alpha to let go.

 

Snarling, Sidney had lunged for Emma. A single shot and a puddle later, and now Emma was left with a sigh, thinking that it had really ended far too quickly.

 

Regina's hand on her shoulder brought her out of the reverie she was in, staring at the puddle.

 

Blinking, she looked up, noting the look of approval, if not a small twinge of sadness, in the Queen's eyes.

 

“Let's find our son.”

 

Emma nodded.

 


	13. Just One Kiss is What You Need Right Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Emma gets her first taste of Regina.

**Chapter XIII**

 

 

The hardest part, Emma decided, was the waiting. She was a Hunter well-accustomed to moving fast, to keeping her possessions few, her bullets numerous and her Bug well-stocked with whatever she might need, should circumstances necessitate she have to just get up and go. She was not used to having to wait. There were only so many times she could reassemble her gun, check her ammo, and argue with Regina about how long getting ready was actually taking. Not that she didn't enjoy that last one far more than she really had any business doing, screaming at the vampire while she blurred around the manor doing ...whatever it was she was doing.

 

“Look, Regina. I get that you can't just go running off, but how long does it really take to throw some bags of blood in a cooler? Some vampire bitch has our son! She could be-”

 

The Queen actually slowed to visible speeds for a half second, snarling at the blonde before rushing off again. Her voice carried through the walls of the house easily enough. “Do you really think I don't know that, Miss Swan?! Do you honestly think I don't spend every second we're away from him knowing that my...” her voice seemed to freeze in her throat, as if she had to stop and swallow before continuing, “...that Cora is probably doing unspeakable things to him, just because he's my son?”

 

“All the more reason we should be out there right now! I know vampires, and I know how they get in hives. Henry-”

 

There was a blur of motion, and suddenly the Queen was directly in front of her. To her credit, Emma didn't jerk back, though she did blink a bit when Regina was very quickly directly in her space and nearly shoving her back into the nearest wall. She'd been crying, Emma could tell, and she felt her throat close over at the sight, but whatever sympathy she felt was lost when her own back hit the wall.

Looming ever closer, the Queen snarled, “Let me stop to spell this out for you, Miss Swan: Whatever you think you know about vampires, forget it. This isn't some fledgling Queen out for blood and a good time. This is Cora. She is old and she is cruel and I am _intimately_ aware of what she's capable of.” The amount of pain in her voice sent shivers down Emma's spine. “I'm also aware that she's obviously been planning this for a long time. She knows I know this, and she also knows that I'm coming with whatever resources are at my disposal.”

 

Emma swallowed, but finally succeeded in wrenching herself away, forcing the vampire away with a single, powerful shove. Thrust back, Regina seemed to collect herself, taking a moment to close her tear-stained eyes and run a hand through her hair.

 

“Do not forget, Miss Swan: she _wants_ us to find him.”

 

“Yeah, but in how many pieces?” Emma muttered, tugging on the sleeves of her jacket and flipping her collar before storming away. “I'm leaving at dawn,” she announced without turning around. “With or without you. _Your majesty_.”

 

Regina watched her exit for half a moment, closing her eyes and allowing fresh tears to fall. It did little to block out the screams ringing in her mind- Daniel's, her own, or Henry's,she couldn't be sure.

 

* * *

 

**Outside Storybrooke**

 

Cora's footsteps resounded grimly through the halls of her Hive, echoing less and less until finally they became lost in a cacophony of whirs and clicks and burbles from behind one of the many doors. Opening it, she stepped inside. Her eyes adjusted almost instantly, pupils blowing wide to take in the muted tones and odd lighting. They settled on her quarry shortly thereafter: the man in the white coat bent over a table probing his newest 'patient' with some tool or other. It didn't look like he'd noticed her entry.

 

His 'patient,' however, was another story. Skin blistering around each band of silver holding him down, paler than normal and no longer filled with the brimming vibrancy as when he'd first arrived, Henry nevertheless glared at her with all the steely determination he could muster. Her grandson said nothing, though that was to be expected considering the number of tubes and needles sticking out of his mouth and throat. Cora approached the table with a smirk, and ran her fingers through the boy's matted hair almost affectionately. He jerked away, the motion causing a metallic crunch as needles collided. Henry hissed in sudden renewed agony, his eyes closing as tears began to trickle down the sides of his face to pool on the wood below.

 

Only then, when the dials on his machines began to jump and the beeping quickened, did the man look up. Seeing who was intruding, he set down his tools hurriedly and let out a small sigh of aggravation. “I can't work if you keep interrupting me, you know,” he groused.

 

Cora only raised an eyebrow, leveling him with a look that said he was little more than a bug in her eyes. “My ears must not be working properly,” she said, fangs gleaming as her lips raised in a sickeningly sweet smile. One of her hands rose between them, gloved fingers lightly reaching to part the lapels of the white coat, pulling it back to lightly trace over his chest, directly above his heart. The organ began to pound rapidly. Frantic. “Would you like to say that again, Doctor?”

 

Swallowing to quench his suddenly dry throat, the Doctor forced a smile of his own. “...Apologies, your majesty. Always a pleasure to see you here. What can I help you with?”

 

A quick pat to his chest and then the hand retreated, finger curling in a beckoning motion as Cora stepped around the table to the furthest corner of the room. With all of the various noises from the wide assortment of contrivances, she found it unlikely her grandson would be able to hear them, even with his abilities.

 

As soon as the doctor was near, her smile grew positively vicious. “Well?”

 

Wringing his hands together before stripping off his thick gloves, he looked away. It was the first clue that what he had to tell her would not make her happy. “I'm afraid it doesn't look good. My preliminary tests were favorable, but with further study....” He trailed off, shaking his head. “I thought perhaps if we extended the procedure, prolonged it in several sessions over a period of days... but he just doesn't have enough blood, your majesty.” He cringed, eyes darting around to see if there was any way to escape from should she decide to lunge. But nothing came.

 

Her hand was merely beneath her chin, eyes over her shoulder to look at the small boy on the table. “That's disappointing,” she mused, almost like an afterthought. “Ah well. Continue with your experiments, Doctor.”

 

He blinked, thinking that perhaps it was _his_ ears that had misheard this time. “Your majesty?”

 

She didn't turn back, keeping her attention glued to her grandson and beginning to walk towards him again as she spoke. “Simply because he won't do doesn't mean we should waste this golden opportunity, does it, Victor? After all, the original target is on her way. We might as well... practice.”

 

* * *

 

 

While her preparations were as rushed as Regina could make them, some delays, unfortunately, were unavoidable. Chief among them being who the hell she was going to leave in charge of her town while she was gone. Sidney's betrayal had left her leery of leaving a vampire in charge, even one of her own. And with Kathryn dead, she found the number of people she actually considered to be half-way competent was woefully small. And made even smaller when her first choice flat-out refused.

 

“Like hell you're leaving me behind,” the old werewolf said gruffly as she poured herself another cup of coffee.

 

Sighing in exasperation, Regina was about ready to throw her hands into the air and be done with it. Instead, her gaze simply hardened while she held the steaming cup of blood Granny had insisted on shoving at her. “Eugenia,” she began warningly, “My options are limited, and I don't have the time to argue this with you-”

 

“No one's arguing, your majesty. I'm going with you and so is Ruby. You're going to need wolves with you anyway to sniff her out.” When Regina would have interrupted again, Granny's cup hit the counter with sense of finality. “Don't think you're the only one who has a score to settle with Cora.”

 

Dark eyes furrowed in confusion for the smallest of moments before comprehension dawned. “...Of course. I'd nearly forgotten.” Slightly shaking hands lifted her cup to her lips. She drained the contents in a single motion, licking her lips when she was finished. Regina wasted a few more precious seconds with her hand lightly circling the rim of her empty cup. “...You realize that Cora's hold will be as strong as ever?” Granny silently nodded. “And you're prepared, I hope, for what might have to occur?”

 

“We're coming with you,” she said stiffly, and that was all the acknowledgment she was going to give.

 

Sighing, Regina nodded her head and stood up. “Very well. At dawn then, Eugenia.”

 

The old wolf looked a bit surprised at the easy acquiescence, but shrugged off her confusion with a raised eyebrow. “You sure that's wise, tracking a full day in sunlight?”

 

Regina nearly laughed. Easier, perhaps, than blinking back the tears that had threatened every moment since she'd realized who took her son. She patted Granny's had condescendingly. “Your concern is touching, dear. I'll be fine, and we're certainly not waiting an entire day to get my son back.” She smiled with a hundred different emotions, and rose from her seat, leaving the empty cup of blood behind. Shrugging, Granny just shook her head and took the cup to the back to be washed. She had her own preparations to make.

 

Sighing as she left the diner, Regina headed glumly towards the next person on her short list of people to leave in charge of her town. Thankfully, Maleficent was all too happy with her promotion, even temporary as it was.

 

* * *

 

 

In the scant hours remaining before dawn, Emma didn't sleep. This wasn't surprising to her: she never slept during the night, after all, and anxiety for Henry coupled with a proclivity for nightmares would hardly produce the best environment for sleeping. She wasn't all that surprised, either, to find a light on in Regina's study when she walked past the half-open door. Unable to prevent herself from glancing inside, she saw the Queen lit dramatically in silhouette, standing in front of the lit fireplace, completely motionless. And that _did_ surprise her. With all the running around Regina had been doing of late, it was odd to see her so still. Deathly still.

 

She opened the door further and slipped inside before she could think better of it, plopping herself down on the couch. She was ready, and obviously, so was Regina. So if she wasn't going to sleep, and Regina wasn't going to sleep, then at least they could wait and not-sleep together.

 

For a long time- how long, Emma couldn't be sure- they didn't speak. The wood cracked in the fireplace, casting the room in a glow too warm and merry for the circumstances. She sighed quietly and watched it burn, occasionally allowing her glance to wander over Regina's backside. There was something in the Queen's hands, she noticed after a while, and the vampire was staring down at it intently, occasionally allowing her fingertips to wander over its surface. It was the only movement she was making. Eventually, Emma stood, finding no reason not to as Regina obviously knew she was there, and approached to get a better look.

 

She'd thought it might be the old daguerreotype of her and Daniel, but a closer look revealed it to be something much more recent. Henry's crooked smile stared back at her, wrapped safe and loved in Regina's arms. She had to smile herself, seeing it. “I've always liked that photo,” she said quietly, as if nothing else were going on. “He looks so happy.”

 

Regina's thumb caressed over its surface again, and she seemed to sigh, lifting her head from staring at the image and moving to place it, reverently, back in its place on her otherwise perfectly appointed mantle. “He was,” she murmured softly. “We both were.”

 

A moment passed, awkward and stilted. Emma felt she should do or say something, perhaps apologize for her rudeness earlier, but no words would come. Instead, she hesitantly reached out a hand, uncertainly placing it on Regina's shoulder in what she hoped was some kind of comfort. “...We're going to get him back, Regina.” She'd said it before, but was all she could think to say. She'd never had occasion to be a very comforting sort of person. And she'd never have pictured herself trying to offer solace to a vampire. The situation was almost laughable, in a weird way. But she wasn't laughing.

 

Regina said nothing. She barely even turned her head to glance at the hand touching her. Slowly, the Hunter made to pull it away.

 

“Emma.” The use of her name was enough to give the Hunter pause, and her hand stilled, poised on Regina's shoulder. The Queen continued to stare ahead, at the photo or the fire or a combination of the two. “Why is it the heart?”

 

Brow furrowing, she only looked at the vampire, leaving her hand where it was and giving an involuntary squeeze. “...Regina?”

 

“When you kill a vampire.” The Queen's voice was oddly detached-sounding, like she was simply being metaphysical. “It's the heart that you go for. The heart serves no cardiopulmonary purpose at all in a vampire; it doesn't beat. But if you sever the spinal column or the brain, those are regenerated; it's only the heart that's vulnerable. Why is that?” She turned then, the hand on her shoulder acting as a pivot, her body twisting to look at the blonde with empty eyes. For the first time, she truly looked lifeless.

 

It was unnerving, and Emma wanted to look away from them. But she stared straight back, shaking her head. “I don't know.” She wasn't good at this. Part of her was still anxious to get going, knowing that Henry was out there alone. The rest of her was steadily growing worried about his other mother.

 

“Neither do I,” Regina sighed, and her body turned to the fire once more, her hand shaking as it braced her form against the mantle.

 

Silence reigned again, until Emma gave a small sighing 'huff.' Regina wasn't going to anyone any good acting like this, lost in her own thoughts and worry and grief. Emma would have to get her out of it, somehow. Slowly, her hand traced a little higher along the other woman's shoulder. “This is about Cora,” she surmised, and took Regina's silences as affirmation. “Tell me what she did to you.”

 

The answer was automatic and almost robotic, the vampire still seemingly entranced by the fire, cut off from feeling. Or trying to keep them buried. “She killed my lover, Miss Swan. Isn't that enough?”

 

“...Regina.” Emma's voice was entreating, trying to understand. She was no stranger to hurt, but the way Regina was talking and acting, she seemed... broken. Lost. Regina had always seemed so strong, until Henry had been taken. Not even the attack on her precious town had affected her this badly.

 

On the mantle, the vampire's hands were clenching the wood so hard that paint began to dig under her fingernails. When she spoke again, her voice was so quiet Emma thought she was almost imagining it. “That kind of pain... you think it would go away, after a while. You think that there has to be some limit- only so much you can lose, before it just... stops. But it doesn't. And soon the pain becomes all-consuming, and you start to forget about the happiness and joy and good times that came before. Everything becomes so dulled, so overwhelmed by the pain that you start to think that nothing can possibly be worth it all. You close everything off, and swear to yourself that no matter what happens, you won't let yourself be hurt like that ever, ever again.” The room had grown cold, even with the fire, and it's light no longer seemed warm and inviting. It was sickly and green. Chilling. Regina's voice had lowered to match, and it broke.

 

A giant knot had formed in her throat while Regina was speaking, and when the vampire stopped, Emma could think of nothing to say. But her hand was still on Regina's shoulder and she stepped closer, placing the other on the opposite, running up and down the forearms in a silent plea to say 'I'm here.'

 

Regina was looking at the photo again, a small, far-away kind of smile on her face as she look at Henry's grin. “But you can't do that, either. Something so unequivocally... good happens, and you think that 'finally, this is what it's all been for. _This_ is worth it.'”

 

Lightly, Emma took the hands in her own, pulling them away from the splintering wood digging into Regina's fingernails. She wrapped Regina in her arms without a word and just held her. She could think of little else to do. Maybe it was enough, just to be here. The vampire didn't seem to need her to talk, anyway.

 

Dark, soulless eyes glanced down at her hands, and then followed the tanned arms attached until Regina had fully spun around, finally once again looking directly at her. “...Daniel wasn't the first, Emma,” she whispered, her voice cracking under the strain of her emotion, “Only the most recent in a long string of things she has done to rip out my heart.”

 

Regina buried her hands in the fabric of Emma's shirt, digging her fingers into her arms instead of the fireplace. “She's taken everything from me. I can't bear losing it again.” She couldn't bring herself to meet Emma's eyes.

 

It hurt, those claws in her arms, but she gave no complaint. “Hey.” Swallowing the thickness in her throat, Emma brought her hands up to almost caress the sides of Regina's face and forced the dark, empty eyes to meet her own. “You're not going to, Regina. _We_ aren't losing anything else. Ever again. We're going to get our son and kill this bitch who took him from us, okay? And then we're coming back here and we are keeping that wall up and our friends and family safe, and she... _no one_ will be able take anything from you, ever, ever again.” Repetition, she thought, might be the only thing she had at her disposal. If she forced Regina to focus on the positive, to drill the good thoughts into her head force those happy memories to resurface, maybe it would be enough to keep the bad ones at bay. At least for a while.

 

Dark eyes brimmed with tears, as if Regina were finally allowing herself to give free reign to her emotions. The hands on Emma's forearms tightened even further, and her eyes squeezed shut before blinking back open. It was obvious she was struggling heavily with whatever she was about to say. Slowly, the words spilled out of her lips. “She's my mother, Emma.”

 

The Hunter sucked in a rapid breath. “...Shit.”

 

Regina's head ducked. Tears were falling in silvered tracks down her cheeks, unfettered and unnoticed. She was too used to them. But Emma noticed. Her mind was whirling with the revelation, the fresh layer of pain from knowing that Regina's life had been ripped to shreds so many times; that her current mental fragility was all the fault of the woman who should have loved her the most. She wanted to apologize, to shake her head and let loose her own sobs at the horror of it all. But pity was not what Regina would want, and certainly not what she needed. Instead, Emma focused on those tears. They needed to stop. Unwilling to pull her hands from those of Henry's other mother to brush them away, she leaned forward, slowly. Giving Regina plenty of time to pull back if she so chose.

 

She did not.

 

Emma's lips brushed over the path of her tears, her breath moving against the tracks as, hesitantly, she pressed them to slick skin. As Regina's had done only hours before, Emma's tongue lightly dragged over the expanse of the vampire's cheek. This time, there was no sudden gasp of shock as memories were shared, no hiss as thoughts not their own jumped between minds.

 

Regina's lips only parted ever so slightly, and when the Hunter drew back just a bit to stare into wide, dark eyes, she could feel the rush of air when Regina quietly breathed out her name, questioning, but not stopping her.

 

The blonde smiled at her, allowing her gaze to drop to Regina's parted lips. The moment stretched, both women barely even daring to move. Slowly, Emma leaned in. Regina let her. Their lips brushed together, the barest hint of pressure, so slight it may well have been nothing at all.

 

The doorbell rang, and Regina snapped backward, lurching away from Emma's lips as if in pain. Surprised by the sudden movement, Emma let out a small yelp of shock, her hands automatically releasing their hold on the vampire.

 

Still looking stricken, Regina glanced towards a shuttered window, her brow creased as her magic fluttered within her, pulsing to life is sudden staccato. As it did every morning. “Dawn,” she said, almost angry at the sun for daring to rise.

 

The doorbell rang again. Emma shot a glare in its direction and ran a hand through her hair, expelling a ragged sigh. “I'll get it,” she offered dryly. Reluctantly turning away, she gave one last, lingering look over Henry's other mother, drinking in the sight of her. Looking a bit shell-shocked, Regina's arms were wrapped around her midsection, protecting herself. The business suit she was wearing had seen better days, rumpled and creased in all the wrong places

 

Emma cleared her throat, offering an awkward, wry smile before walking away. “...You should probably change into something less... Queen-y.” She got to the door just in time to watch Granny's fist rise to pound insistently against it.

 

Wiping all evidence of her tears away, Regina set her lips in a grim line of determination and gave herself a once-over in the mirror. Groaning at the state of herself, she headed up her stairs to quickly change, giving a last fleeting look at Emma's backside before vanishing around the corner. Her mind allowed the words Emma had said repeatedly to echo in her thoughts. They would win. They had to win.

 

Opening the door to the resolute faces of the Alpha werewolf and her granddaughter, the blonde watched the reflection of Regina in one of the many hall mirrors. She watched for a bit too long, and Ruby, seeing her line of sight, gave a knowing smirk.

 

Emma rolled her eyes and stepped aside to let them in, throwing on her leather jacket from where she'd left it beside the stairs, quickly re-checking the location of all her guns. She shoved all thoughts of Regina away, at least everything that didn't have to deal with Henry. That almost-kiss, she decided, was only one of many things they would figure out later. After their son was safely returned.

 

After they'd killed Regina's mother.


	14. Just One Kiss and I Will Show You How

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Regina leaves her Hive for the first time in a very, very long while.

**Chapter XIV**

**Storybrooke**

 

Weak in the way that comes every morning just after dawn, the sunlight began to crest over the hills almost merrily, bathing the town in its warm glow like an extended caress. It seemed the day was going to be a pleasant one. Emma almost could have scowled. Not that she really wanted to go around hunting in the cold and rain (again), but it seemed almost unfair for the day to be so nice when their task was one so grim. She pulled away from the open door to shoot another impatient glance up the stairs.

 

Regina was only gone a moment or two. Still, poised and packed and ready at the bottom of them, Emma grumbled out a 'finally' as footsteps descended. Her ears perked, surprised to not hear the click of heels on wood that had become so familiar. Instead, practically heeled knee-high boots came into the Hunter's line of vision. What followed was no impeccably tailored suit or flawless dress- nothing that she'd come to associate with Storybrooke's vampire Queen. Emma felt her throat grow suspiciously dry as long legs encased in leather pants came into view, the tightness looking like they wanted to give Emma's jeans a run for their money. Coupled with a cream shirt and long leather vest, Regina looked like a heroine straight out of a medieval romance novel.

 

When Emma's eyes finally drifted up to a face well-scrubbed of all evidence of tears, Regina merely quirked an eyebrow at her. “'Less Queen-y' enough for you, Miss Swan?” she grinned in passing, making her way to the two wolves who stood beyond at the door.

 

The Hunter felt something tug in her chest at the use of her surname. Regina's voice sounded, at least to her ears, incredibly affectionate. She had to hide a smile, and busied herself in readjusting her pack as a blush began to spill over her cheeks.

 

Regina's attention seemed fortunately elsewhere, giving a nod to the two wolves.

 

Granny gave a very low wolf-whistle as Regina finally stepped into her full view. Hoisting a newly-repaired crossbow onto her shoulder, the old werewolf grinned. “Never thought I'd see you in that again, your majesty.”

 

Regina seemed to be fully back in her 'Queen' mode, stepping before the small pile of munitions near the door with a smirk. “Desperate times, Eugenia.” Bending to collect her satchel of supplies, Regina slung the bag neatly over her shoulder. What were undoubtedly insulated bags of blood creaked as plastic re-settled.

 

Emma was finding it very hard to not take advantage of the position and sneak a look at the Queen's leather-covered posterior. Ruby didn't bother with such politeness, lightly nudging Emma in the shoulder just before Regina stood up again.

 

Emma just rolled her eyes and headed outside, hoping against hope that she wasn't going to be blushing this entire trip.

 

* * *

 

 

The actual act of leaving was far harder than Emma would ever have imagined. Once upon a time, it would have meant nothing to her, she knew. Her life had been full of quick departures in the early light of dawn, leaving behind everything in a matter of hours as she ran to the next bolt-hole chasing her marks. Leaving, and running in general, was second-nature to her. Or at least it had been.

 

Running from Storybrooke was infinitely more difficult, in a way that had nothing to do with walls or limited exit points, and everything to do with the feeling that for once in her life, she was leaving  _home_.

 

It didn't take her much to realize that she was not alone in that feeling.

 

Without discussing it, their band of four had paused just before hitting the treeline beyond the open meadow that led to the town gates. Granny and Ruby stood side-by-side in silence, their eyes riveted on a single point near the base of the gate. Graham, in wolf form. He threw his head back and howled, long and deep and mournful. The rest of Storybrooke's wolves joined in the cry, echoing across the meadow as they payed homage to the departure of their Alpha.

 

For Graham, Emma realized, it was so much more. The rest of the pack only knew Granny as their Alpha- Graham knew her as mother. She and Ruby were the only family he'd known since that day he'd been found just outside the walls and taken, squirming and whining, to Granny's arms. Taking a deep breath, Emma glanced over at Ruby, not surprised to see tears being hastily scrubbed off her cheeks. Granny turned away from the town, unwilling or unable to look any longer, and re-shifted her crossbow across her shoulders before heading into the forest. The sound of her changing forms followed shortly thereafter, and a moment longer saw the large grey wolf peeking her head out of the treeline, crossbow still across her back. She gave an impatient-sounding bark and put her nose to the ground to begin sniffing out their quarry.

 

The bark seemed to jolt Emma out of whatever trance she'd been in, and she gave Ruby a quick, shared look before their eyes both fixed on the remaining member of their party.

 

However hard it was for the three of them (and Graham) to be leaving, for Regina it had to be infinitely harder. Storybrooke was _hers_ in a way that towns rarely actually belonged to people. The Queen stood a few paces ahead of the rest of them, closer to the meadow. She seemed frozen in the early light, staring back at her town with a hand against her throat, the other wrapped around her middle. Outside the walls, Regina seemed so much smaller than she had before, as if a great chunk of her were missing.

 

Beside her, Ruby brushed against Emma's arm, the woods behind them opening up like a yawning maw of the unknown, threatening and chilling in it's foreignness. “...How long do you think it's been since she's left?” The young wolf mused.

 

Regina's voice filled the space between them, icy cold and crisp as the dawn air. “One hundred and seventy-four years, Miss Lucas.” Like a creaking door, the Queen turned around as if she were on a track, head held high and face barren of emotion. “I'd like to limit my absence as much as possible. Let's go.” Her boots crunched against the grass as she strode toward them, leaving her town and the last two centuries of her life behind her.

 

Ruby's eyes instantly dropped, followed seconds after by the top half of her body. The immense black wolf padded away, stalking into the woods after her grandmother. Regina followed shortly thereafter, heading into the treeline with a backward look at Emma and one final, fleeting glance to her town.

 

Taking a deep breath, Emma took a look of her own, did a last check of her guns and ammunition, and headed into the woods. The howling of the wolves behind them lingered on well into the morning.

 

* * *

 

**Further outside Storybrooke**

 

The silver was finally beginning to give way. He'd been at it for hours, scraping the tip of one of the many needles he'd pulled out of his body against the chain. Despite skin that blistered and cracked, he continued to grip the chain, sawing at it over and over, and when the thinness of the needle would finally give way and snap, he'd grab another and start it up all over again. The pinprick holes over most of his body had left him coated in a thin layer of his own crusting blood, but at least he'd stopped bleeding. The machines around him had all stopped their whirring, the doctor had left hours ago with his grandm... with the monster. He'd been alone since, in the deafening silence, and couldn't help but be grateful for it.

 

Now, the only sounds were the far-off screams of some other poor victims, and the scrape of the needles against the silver.

 

It was as the chain was finally getting just enough of a wear-line in it to twist and hopefully snap that he heard it. Long, even strides resounded throughout the halls, each one tolling the sound of death and pain. He shivered. He'd grown to dread that sound. Hurriedly, he lay still on the table he'd been left on, hoping against all odds that the clicks would not stop just outside the door. He felt his heart pounding in his throat as each one sounded nearer and nearer. His eyes squeezed shut. A shadow fell in front of the door.

 

The heels continued on. He gave a ragged sigh of relief, staying silent and motionless until the sound had long since faded away. Then the next needle was in his hand, and he sawed all the more furiously.

 

 

* * *

 

 

They made excellent time.

 

Ruby had teased with Emma a bit more before they'd actually left the mansion, catching up to her outside and wondering aloud at how she was going to keep up with the three of them. “Regina's not gonna carry you the whole way, is she?” she'd smirked.

 

Emma had only grinned at the wolf in reply, “You really think I'd be much of a Hunter if I didn't know how to keep up with vamps and wolves?”

 

Ruby had nudged her playfully in the side. “Right,” she rolled her eyes, “So are we gonna pretend you're not upset about _not_ being in her arms the whole trip?” Her tone was light and teasing, mirth glittering in yellow eyes.

 

Rolling her own in reply, the Hunter had had another comeback on the tip of her tongue when Granny and Regina had made their way outside, and they'd departed shortly thereafter, leaving Ruby with no real answer to either question.

 

Now, the Hunter found herself drawing on skills well-honed from years of tracking, discovering to her relief that such abilities had not atrophied in the time she'd been in Storybrooke. She managed to stay a comfortable distance behind Regina, close enough that she could still pounce and throw the vampire to the ground if she really wanted. But despite what Ruby might have loved to insinuate, that wasn't what they were here for.

 

The wolves were not far ahead of them, noses to the ground as they sought out one scent among millions. They'd found the trail begun by Cora's note easily enough. Now it was only a matter of time until they found the Hive itself. And Emma still didn't really know what the plan was once they got there. Whenever she questioned it, she only got her own words of 'get in, get Henry, get out,' thrown back at her. It wasn't much of a plan, but she couldn't say she disapproved.

 

As it turned out, finding the Hive took remarkably less time than any of them would have predicted. Shortly before sundown they came to the end of the forest, and Granny and Ruby all but skidded to an abrupt halt, noses quickly testing and re-testing the air. Hackles rose, twin growls emerging from their throats as low and subdued as they could make them. They stalked forward to the edge of what seemed a very steep and sudden ravine. Below, the woods no longer provided a cover, a great expanse of open plain spilling out of nowhere. And it shimmered and rippled like a pond, with a tiny pinprick of blue light flickering at the very center.

 

Emma caught up just as the wolves were shifting back **.** Regina crouched down low, glancing down over the incline. She looked as livid as Emma had ever seen her. “I've been an idiot,” she could be heard muttering to herself. “This close, and I never even realized.”

 

The blonde joined her overlooking the field, eyes going wide as the vast expanse seemed to shift with every second, colors changing and warping like some horrific acid trip. “What the hell is that?”

 

“A dampening field,” Regina replied, breathless and cursing herself continuously under her breath.

 

Emma had heard of those, but never on this scale. Dampeners were a form of protective magic- devices that took a great deal of magic to operate. They had a two-fold use. The first and most obvious was to cloak a place- usually a room or, in some cases, a small house- from being easily seen. She'd never seen one used on a whole Hive before. But dampeners were more commonly used to protect people from witches, like a sort of sun-screen to prevent any magic-user from being able to draw on the sun for power. She swallowed, placing a hand lightly on Regina's shoulder. “Can you break it?”

 

Regina glanced at the hand, then Emma's face. The setting sun was bathing the blonde in a healthy, orange glow. “...I don't know,” she swallowed. “I might not have enough power. Even if I did, the sun is already setting. It would drain me of more energy than I care to lose right now.”

 

Behind them came the unmistakeable sound of Granny loading her crossbow. Emma gritted her teeth and reached for the rifle strapped to her back. Of all her guns, it had the longest range. “...So you won't be able to use magic.”

 

“The sun is setting,” Regina repeated, a growl of her own building in her throat as she stared down at the field. Her fangs had slid into prominence, barbed tips now brushing against her lower lip as she spoke. “I won't _need_ magic.”

 

* * *

 

 

Descending down through the lower levels of her hive, Cora's hand rested on the head of one of her wolves, the sandy fur gathering between her fingers as she combed through it. They came to a halt just outside a small door, hidden at the far end of a lonely corridor. Pulling her hand away from the crest of her wolf and ignoring the small whimper as she did, she pulled a key out of the folds of her dress, and fit it into the lock. Inside, the room glowed with a faint, flickering blue light.

 

She grinned, entering into the chamber quickly with the wolf, and faced the sole occupant; bands of dark metal wrapped around her arms and torso, barely giving her legs enough room to hold her up. “Comfortable, dear?”

 

There was no response. There so seldom was, when she asked that question. Still, Cora continued on, moving further into the room. Her captive shuffled away as much as was possible, biting back a yelp of pain as the cold iron cut even further into her skin at the motion.

 

Cora slipped closer still, her face leering before her captive's. Her eyes closed at the cry, an ecstatic smile on her face as she actually appeared to drink in the sound of pain. She gave a little sigh and opened her eyes, lips parted enough that the tips of her fangs gleamed in the blue light.

 

“My daughter should be here soon, my pet.” Cora sounded almost gleeful, leaning in close enough to take her key and unshackle the chains holding the bands to the wall, but not from around her captive. “Are you ready to protect me from her?”

 

“Please ...don't,” came the only response, broken and quiet. Barely audible.

 

“As enjoyable as it is to hear you beg, my dear, it's quite useless,” Cora stated, taking both chains between her hands. She tugged at them viciously, sending the captive to her knees with another shout of pain and the rending of gossamer wings already shredded past the point of repair. A captured fairy had no use for wings anyway.

 

The blue light flickered dangerously low for an instant, before Cora yanked once more, sending the small woman sprawling directly before the paws of her wolf.

 

The wolf growled, jaws opening to reveal rows of teeth dripping with saliva, inches away from a face caked with dirt and grime.

 

“Please, just kill me.” The fairy's voice was beseeching, the tips of her fingers reaching entreatingly to the wolf as far as they could, clasped so tightly to her sides.

 

Cora only laughed again. “Not just yet, my dear,” she grinned and hauled on the chain enough to force the small woman to her feet. The fairy stumbled forward, narrowly avoiding colliding with the sandy wolf, and gave another small shriek of pain. Cora's nostrils flared, drinking in the scream again, and she ran the back of a leather-clad hand gently down the dirty face, brushing a strand of thinning hair out out her eyes. “There, there,” she admonished. The leather of her glove tingled at the contact, and when she pulled it away it shimmered with its own blue light for a half second. “Come along, pet. You have work to do.”

 

Wolf at her heels, she led her charge in slow, faltering steps as quickly as the cold iron bars would allow, yanking on the chains when she didn't feel the pace was enough. Up, up they went, spiraling around the halls of the hive. Really, Cora could have just whooshed them there and be done with it in a matter of seconds. But the time it took wasn't the point.

 

Step by agonizing step, Cora led the battered fairy through the entirety of her hive, letting all of her vampires and the other prisoners witness the slow march. Glittering tears fell unfettered down the fairy's cheeks, leaving faint drops of blue light on the rich carpets and lavish floors before they faded away into nothingness. Each exhalation made the light that emanated from her entire body flicker again, sobs of pain falling from her lips despite desperate attempts at swallowing them before Cora could notice.

 

Finally, they reached the roof. Cora let the chains go slack, and the fairy fell to bruised knees in relief, all but forgotten as the Hive Queen inspected the machinery. “Are you ready, Doctor?” she asked, almost pleasantly, idly running the chain through her gloved hands.

 

Victor was tinkering with a small chamber of glass surrounded by wires and spinning machinery, writing something down furiously before looking up at the Queen. “The dampening generator is ready, yes,” he confirmed, as if anyone dared to think otherwise. His gaze fell to the fairy, her light dim and her body seeming entirely too frail. He pulled a face. “She's not going to last long,” he groused, but indicated she should be shoved into the glass chamber anyway.

 

“She won't need to,” Cora mused, yanking the fairy to her feet yet again.

 

Screaming again, the fairy stumbled, fighting in what little way she could as she was maneuvered into the glass enclosure. The door slammed into place behind her, seamless and smooth. “Please,” she whimpered, knowing it was useless. “Please don't...”

 

But Cora couldn't enjoy the screams and begging as, beside her, the wolf raised her nose in the air, hackles rising as she turned to face the high plain where the treeline began. She growled, low and dangerous, and snarled in a ferocious display of intent.

 

An eyebrow rose. Cora dropped the chain from one hand, moving to bury it in the fur of her wolf. “You smell them, don't you, my love?”

 

The wolf only growled again in response.

 

She grinned in lavish delight, clapping her gloved hands together like a child. “Wonderful,” Cora purred. “Get Hook and go. Bring me my daughter. Do what you like with whatever poor souls she's damned by bringing with her.”

 

With a howl, the wolf took off. Cora watched her go with a delighted grin, and turned back to the fairy in her cage of glass and iron.

 

Cora approached the cage, pressing a kiss to two gloved fingers before raising them to touch the outside of the glass, just in front of the fairy's face.

 

The fairy spat at the gesture, kicking and struggling as much as her bonds would allow, each impact of her bound feet leaving blue residue smearing over the interior surface of the glass. The machinery around her fired into life with a roar, and the dust was sucked up into the maze of tubing surrounding her. The fairy's eyes went wide, realizing for the first time that this was no mere cage- it was a battery. And she would be powering it. She screamed as loud as she could, her tears now falling in unending streams.

 

Her screams could not be heard, which Cora found a great pity. She looked almost sadly at the fairy, but any sorrow she felt was only because her days of toying with the thing were finally at an end. “Goodbye, pet.” Withdrawing her hand, she nodded to the doctor.

 

He threw the switch.

 

The next screams _were_ heard through the glass, the entire contraption glowing brightly blue. A wave of rippling, twisting magic pulsed around them- a shockwave that soon passed through every level of her hive, and into the field beyond, forming a great dome shape of rippling light around it. The dampening field was complete. Cora watched the light in the glass cage fade away, still powering the machine, until it dimmed completely, the fairy within slumped and hollow. With a sorrowful look, Cora turned to head back to her throne room.

 

It was nearly time.

 

* * *

 

 

A shift in the air was all the warning they had. Red and Granny's heads turned toward the field, the very instant Emma yelped. “Shit!” The blonde pushed Regina behind her before she could think, a split second before a pack of five wolves burst through the rippling field, howling and snarling as they came directly for their outcropping of trees.

 

Granny stood stock still with steel in her eyes. A look of horror and recognition crossed over Ruby's face as the enemy pack came racing up the trail, led by a snarling sand-colored wolf. Just beside her raced an immense brindle, almost larger than Ruby was when she shifted. But they were human now.

 

“Shift back!” Emma screamed at them, aiming her rifle in the direction of the foreign pack.

 

“No!” growled Granny, instead raising her crossbow and firing off a bolt at the brindle. He yelped in pain, the bolt having gone directly though his right paw. He stumbled, falling to the ground in a wave of dust. The wolf in the front barked back at him, but kept going. The other four paid the wounded wolf no mind, caring little for the fact that one of their own had fallen, and continued to come charging up the hill.

 

Emma took aim, her finger on the trigger. “Don't shoot the leader!” Granny growled, loading another bolt into her crossbow. Startled, Emma almost shot back a 'why the fuck not?!' but Regina placed a hand on her shoulder almost calmly, as if agreeing with the Alpha. Swallowing, Emma took aim at one of the smaller two wolves, and shot.

 

Her aim, as always, rang true: the wolf she had shot did not get back up. The last two smaller wolves went down immediately after, a bolt from Granny's crossbow through one's throat and a shot from Emma taking care of the last.

 

The leader was almost upon them, her mouth snarling and wide as she slowed in speed. Below, on the field, the injured brindle wolf was babying his paw, but slowly began to charge up the hill on the remaining three. Granny's eyes glinted yellow as she snarled. “Regina, now! Take Emma and go!” She threw down her crossbow.

 

“What?!” Emma shouted, turning to run towards the Alpha, who'd obviously lost her mind. “That wasn't part of the plan!” But she felt Regina's hands snatching her up, quickly putting her back in what had become an common enough position in Storybrooke as she ran with the blonde in her arms. “Put me down!” Emma screamed, her arms reaching out for Ruby as she ran by.

 

“This was always the plan,” Ruby gave her a small smile and a thumbs up, telling her it would all be okay. “Go! Get Henry back! We'll see you back home!” She smiled again, and then turned back toward the threat.

 

The sandy wolf came to a complete stop not all that far from them. And she began to shift.

 

Regina whooshed them past the wolf in mid-transformation and the injured one still on his way to the hill. He snarled at them, turning to give a look to the other wolf. Even still in the midst of her change, she gave a barking command. He turned to watch the vampire and her blonde charge slip past his sight, then seemed to weigh his options before finally continuing to climb the hill.

 

Seeing him as she squirmed in Regina's grasp, Emma just rolled her eyes and set the bottom of her rifle on Regina's shoulder for recoil, aimed, and pulled the trigger. A sudden change in the way Regina was running caused her to miss. Swearing, Emma fought against the hold around her body. She _never_ missed. “Regina, for fuck's sake, put me down!” She demanded as hushed as she could, keeping in mind that they were probably mere feet away from a hive crawling with vampires.

 

Regina only sighed and lightly set the kicking blonde back down, just before they would have entered into the area protected by the dampening field.

 

“Thanks. Now what the hell was that?!” Emma ran a hand through her hair and afforded a glance back up the hill, to where three wolves now stood in human form. 

 

“...Ours isn't the only family we're trying to reunite, Miss Swan,” Regina said simply.

 

 

* * *

 

On the hill, the sandy wolf had finished transforming, and now glared at the two before her with shifting eyes. Her gaze fell on Ruby, and she actually seemed to smile. “Red.”

 

Ruby shuffled her feet a little awkwardly, and stepped forward as well, her own eyes narrowing a bit at the name. “...Hi, Mom.”

 

The woman's eyes then narrowed, coming to fall on the old woman. “And Mother. I wish I could say I was surprised. Come to try and drag me away, kicking and screaming again? It didn't work the last time.”

 

Granny opened her hand entreatingly, showing that her crossbow was well and truly gone. She took a step forward. “Anita, please. Just... hear us out.”

 

Anita laughedand cocked her head to the side. It was at this point that her brindled companion finally made his way to the crest of the hill, shifting back to human form immediately and cradling his mangled right hand. He grinned at the two other wolves, then slid into place beside Anita. “Hello, love,” he purred. “Who's this, then?”

 

Refusing to take her eyes off her mother and daughter, Anita growled back. “You remember my mother.”

 

“Ah yes, of course.” He winked at the older wolf, who growled and looked as though she severely wished she hadn't dropped her crossbow. Hook's eyes moved onto Ruby, lingering there entirely too familiarly for anyone's taste. “But I meant the pretty one.”

 

“She's my daughter, idiot.”

 

Eyes widening, after a few seconds Hook's grin only widened. He licked his lips approvingly as if to say 'well, then.'

 

Ruby shifted uncomfortably. She was used to such attention, and even reveled in it at times. This was not one of them. An echo of Granny's growl ripped from her throat.

 

Anita rolled her eyes, though it was unclear as to whether it was at Hook or her daughter or mother or the whole situation. Without warning, she whirled and kicked Hook's legs out from under him. He fell back with a surprised 'oof' of pain, hit his head against a rock, and then lay still.

 

Taken aback by the suddenness, neither Granny or Ruby was prepared when Anita kept moving. She scooped up one of Granny's fallen crossbow bolts, lunged for her daughter and manhandling Ruby into position so she could hold the barbed tip to her throat, all in the space of a second. “You have sixty seconds to say your piece, old woman,” she growled at her mother. “After that, your granddaughter dies and I go charging down that hill to bring your pretty little vampire to the feet of my Queen.”

 


	15. Just One Kiss is What You Need Tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Hive is entered.

** Chapter XV **

 

“Anita,” Granny began as calmly as she could, her hands outstretched in a sign of faith, “Think about what you're doing. That's your daughter.”

 

“Only biologically,” Anita growled. The tip of the bolt only tightened against the pale column of Ruby's throat, pricking the skin enough for a faint line of red to trickle down. “I have no real daughter. I have no mother. I have only My Queen.”

 

“You know Cora's only using you,” Granny murmured, as gently as she could. “You know she doesn't love you.”

 

“You said all this the last time, when you went home with this one,” she tightened her grip a little further around Ruby, “in a bundle dangling from your jaws and your tail between your legs.” Anita laughed hollowly. “ _Love_ is a weakness,” she pointed out. “From her or either of you, why would I want it?”

 

The burn of that memory- of leaving her daughter behind to the less than tender mercies of the Queen she'd chosen, burned in Granny's mind, vivid as it had ever been. She swallowed it back, insistent on her goal. This time, she would get her daughter back. “You know you care for your daughter, Anita,” she entreated. “At least a little. Else you'd have given her to your Queen and not to me.”

 

Anita swallowed visibly, but the tip of the bolt pressed a little more firmly into her daughter's neck. “...Thirty seconds.”

 

A quiet yelp slipped from Ruby's lips, her hand gripping the arm that held the weapon to her neck, trying to yank it away. “...Mom...” she whimpered. “Mommy... you're hurting me.”

 

The anger burning in Anita's eyes faltered, her grip loosened for a half second. It was enough.

 

Ruby stomped down hard at the instep of her mother's foot, at the same time bringing her elbow jamming down into her stomach. As Anita howled in pain, loosening her grip just a little, Ruby twisted, wrenching herself out of her grasp.

 

Before Anita could regain her hold, she was barreled into by a transforming blur of grey. Granny bared her elongating snout, hands becoming paws as she batted her own weapon away from Anita's hand. The crossbow bolt fell to the ground, clattering down the hill past the still-unconscious form of Hook.

 

Cora's Alpha snarled in a mix of anger and pain, her eyes yellowing. Her voice lowered. “So much for talking,” she growled, and began her own change.

 

Rearing back, Ruby slammed into her, forcing Anita down, mid-change. Granny leaped atop her, forcing the transforming woman's midsection into the ground. Ruby whipped a syringe of something out of the pocket of her bag, and before her mother could fight off her grandmother, she plunged it into Anita's neck.

 

The Alpha snarled beneath the bulk of her mother, her eyes flashing vibrantly back to their more usual color as she writhed and fought, before her motions slowed, the drug pumping into her all the faster for being mid-transformation. Finally, she stilled completely, chest heaving as the drug worked to revert her back to human form and leave her blissfully unconscious.

 

Releasing a deep breath she wasn't aware she'd been holding, Ruby removed the syringe, taking a moment to wipe her neck of blood with the back of her hand. Her grandmother shifted back beside her, and she looked at the old woman with a lump in her throat and wide eyes. Anita's head lay in her lap, the rise and fall of her chest the only motions she was making now. Ruby subconsciously ran her fingers through her mother's hair. “What now?”

 

Granny's jaw was realigning into a human shape, so she had to wait a moment before responding, and settled down on the hill overlooking the dampening field, next to her granddaughter. “...Now we wait,” she sighed. She reclaimed her crossbow, tugging it into her lap and holding it gently, as if for comfort. Together, she and Ruby looked below to where the magic field shimmered.

 

A bright point of light suddenly burst from the base of the field, blinding to the point of pain as both wolves had to shield their eyes.

 

When they lowered their hands and the spots no longer danced behind their vision, the field was gone. The Hive itself, no longer hidden behind its magic, sprawled lazily below them, a giant, imposing fortress of stone and wood.

 

Ruby glanced nervously at her grandmother, supporting the unconscious form of her mother. “...What was that?” she whispered.

 

Shaking her head, Granny rubbed at her glasses with the hem of her dress before resettling them on her nose. “...Regina and Emma, no doubt,” she muttered.

 

 

* * *

** Down the Hill **

 

“So this... Anita is Ruby's mother, and she was what, brainwashed? By Cora. And you didn't think to tell me this before?!” Emma demanded, her eyes hard and so angry they were almost glowing, reflecting the shimmering blue light of the dampening field that pulsed inches away from them.

 

“It wasn't pertinent,” Regina waved a hand, as if to end the conversation. As if it didn't matter.

 

“Not-'” she began loudly, only barely remembering to keep her voice down. As though it had somehow slipped her mind that they were only inches away from sneaking into a hive full of who-knew how many vampires and a supreme bitch of a Queen. “'Not pertinent'?! How the hell was it not pertinent?!” she hissed.

 

“This isn't the time for this, dear.” Regina sighed. Her hand extended, a solitary finger barely brushing against the edge of the shimmering wall of magic until it rippled around them. Gasping a little, she pulled it back, staring at her hand as if it burned. From her fingertip rose a faint wisp of purple smoke. Swallowing visibly, the vampire Queen regarded the wall with a little more trepidation. “...This is going to hurt,” she muttered, and took a breath, readying herself to step through.

 

Her foot had barely moved before Emma's hand clamped down hard on her shoulder, halting her progress and whirling her back to face the blond Hunter. “Regina,” she growled, low and hard as any wolf could. “Explain.”

 

The Queen was thrown back by the sudden turning, and she stumbled far less gracefully than she would ever admit, colliding with the blonde briefly before regaining her footing once again. “Miss Swan,” she snapped out, fangs bared before she could think better of it, watching as the curt title brought just a hint of pain into Emma's eyes. She closed her mouth, forcing her fangs to retract. It took much more effort than usual. She shot another look at the dampening field before them, as if judging their relative safety, and sighed. “Can we please discuss this at a later date? Anita is the concern of Ruby and Eugenia. _Our_ concern, in case I have to remind you, is Henry.”

 

Looking as though she was about to start swearing up a storm, Emma had the sudden urge to find the nearest tree and kick the hell out of it. A Hive full of vampires would have to do. She closed her eyes, expelled a long, deep breath, and ran the hand not currently holding her gun through her hair. “Fine,” She breathed, and finally holstered her rifle back behind her back, pulling a pistol out instead. Better for close-range. “Fine. We get Henry back. But when we get home, you and I are going to have a talk.” She stepped directly in front of Regina, a breath away from touching her.

 

Regina took a long look at her, regarding the Hunter before her as if for the first time. The light of the dampening field danced over her features, casting soft blue shadows over her brow. Strands of blonde hair fluttered in front of her face, appearing almost white in the light. The Queen's head tilted slightly to the side. A soft, sad sort of look came into her eyes. She gave a slight nod. “...Yes, I imagine we will.”

 

Aware of the sudden scrutiny she was now under, Emma squared her shoulders, shuffling a little awkwardly. She brought both hands to her pistol, leveling it in front of them, holding at ready, and stepped past Regina to the very edge of the rippling plane of magic. “Right.... I'll go first.”

 

Regina seemed hesitant, raising a hand as if to stop her, but Emma shook her head and took a deep breath. Exhaled. She stepped through.

 

It was a curious sensation. Emma had had her share of encounters with magic, even before she started living with someone who practiced so readily. But this was a wholly new feeling. She could actually feel the magic around her, pulsing and inching up her body. Her skin buzzed, her hair felt suddenly too tight. The gun in her hands felt both hot and cold against her palms, and then it somehow  _ pulled,  _ as if fighting against the magical field. The blue light around her flared, more of it circling around the pistol as though the magic was attempted to seep its way into it. 

 

She held it tighter, gritting her teeth, and took another step forward. The sensation burst, a shock wave of force powering around her gun hand and sending Emma reeling. The ground lurched beneath her. From behind, she would swear she could hear Regina calling her name, but the sound was low and twisted, like shouting through a kazoo. She stumbled forward, catching herself only just before she would have fallen to the ground, and regained her footing.

 

The gun suddenly felt very light in her hand. Puzzled, she cast a wary gaze around her, eyes darting frantically about in search of danger. Before her, the Hive loomed, daunting and ominous and nothing like the surrounding hillside. She swallowed the rapid dryness of her throat, and looked around once more for threats. When none seemed immediately apparent, she took a closer look at her gun, popping the safety on and checking the magazine. It was empty. It had not been before she stepped into the field. More confused than ever, she quickly reloaded the gun. Her fingers fumbled a little, and she realized that she hadn't had to reload this particular weapon in a while.

 

It was the one Regina had enchanted. Apparently, as Emma had stepped through the dampening field, her spell had been removed. This field didn't just prevent magic from being used. It prevented _all magic._ Her eyes widened, and she turned, desperate to warn Regina.

 

On the other side of the field, the Queen was looking rather frazzled. Her eyes seemed wild, and were peering in Emma's direction, but not directly at her. Her lips were forming words, calling out the Hunter's name, though Emma couldn't hear her. It took a moment of frenetic waving to realize that Regina couldn't see her.

 

Shoulders squared in their leather vest, and with only a small amount of hesitation, the Queen raised her hands guardedly in front of her, and stepped forward. Emma could only watch, helpless, as the field rippled around her Queen. Regina's voice echoed around in her mind- her mutters from shortly before, when Emma had been so angry at her and Regina had seemed to pay her no mind. “ _This is going to hurt.”_ The Hunter felt her stomach drop. 

 

Regina had known the field would rip her magic away. She had known, and was stepping in anyway.

 

The blue light suddenly twisted around Regina, the gentle ripples giving way to violent, tearing spikes of magic. The field enveloped Regina, cocooning around her like a spider with prey, all the while sending shooting bolts of light directly through her core.

 

“Regina!” Emma reached out her hands, trying to wrap them around the vampire Queen, to pull the other woman in physically if she had to. The magic propelled her back, but she tried to force her way through it. She barreled in, kicking and pounding and clawing at the waves of magic around the other woman, desperate to reach her.

 

Face contorted in agony, Regina's mouth opened wide, but no screams could be heard. Another light burst from within her, this one dark purple. It spilled out in waves, drawn from the tips of Regina's fingers and her open mouth.

 

Emma stretched closer to her Queen, clawing through the soupy, clinging blue field until her fingers finally clasped around Regina's arm.

 

The moment they touched, a sunburst of gold burst around them, spreading out in all directions, tearing through the field. The clinging magic gave one last tug at Regina, but Emma held fast, pulling the other woman towards her. The blue light fell away, retreating in a blur to the very top of the Hive. Around them, the dampening field broke, chased into nothingness. The gold shock wave ebbed, feeding into the remains of the purple magic still lightly seeping from Regina, before slamming back into the vampire Queen. Regina gave a breathy, choking gasp, her eyes flashing violet and then gold before slamming back to brown. She fell into Emma's arms in a heap, and they both tumbled to the ground.

 

Emma's lungs burned, her body contorted as she tried to support the brunette landing atop her. Regina gave a gasping grunt, her eyes blinking woozily. Worriedly, Emma ran her hands over the vampire's back, holding her tightly, faces once more only inches away.

 

Slowly, Regina seemed to come back to herself, bucking a little roughly when she realized she was still being held down. “Let go!” she screamed.

 

“Ow!” Emma grunted, releasing her hold just a bit. “Jeez, Regina.”

 

Ceasing her thrashing, the vampire blinked again, eyes coming into focus on blond curls and green eyes. She relaxed, falling against the Hunter's chest. “...Emma? Are you... did I hurt you?”

 

Shaking her head, Emma forced a smile. It wasn't necessarily hard, with Regina apparently okay. And in her arms. She swallowed. “...I'm good. You okay?”

 

Regina nodded, head braced against Emma's shoulder, and she gave a tiny sigh of what almost sounded like contentment. Emma tried not to enjoy it too much. She failed. But then dark eyes snapped back open, and Regina was scurrying off the blonde, looking around them, eyes wide as saucers. The remains of the dampening field were still crumbling away, eaten by gold threads of magic.

 

Grunting, Emma pushed herself up onto her elbows. “What the hell _was_ that?” She got to her feet, reclaiming her gun from where it had fallen and automatically checking it.

 

Regina shook her head, at a loss. “...I have no idea.” She turned away from looking at the field, instead moving her gaze to the immense fortress of a Hive that now lay before them. “...But I suggest we worry about it later.” Giving it only a moment of thought, she pulled off the satchel full of blood bags she was carrying, rummaging through until she hand one in each hand. Ripping them open, she downed first one and then the other in rapid succession, attempting to return the strength that the field had taken out of her.

 

With another little furrow to her brow, it seemed as though Emma were going to object, as if adding one more thing to the rapidly growing pile of 'things to talk about later' was the final straw. But as she watched Regina eat, the Hunter just groaned and shook her head. “Okay,” she sighed. She took a moment to take stock of all her guns, making sure that they were still attached after her tumble, and then waited, pistol at the ready.

 

When Regina was finished, she left the satchel there, not wanting the scent of so much blood to immediately betray their position. Though, undoubtedly, someone inside had to have seen their little light show, or at least noticed the field had been destroyed. Still, they proceeded in relative silence, each poised and on their guard for whatever attack would come. But nothing came, all the way up to the main entrance of the Hive.

 

Regina was still walking stiffly, and as her booted heel made contact with stone, she slipped, her balance failing her.

 

Giving a soft cry, she waited to hit the flagstones, but never did. She hit flesh instead, as Emma rushed to support her weight, a line of worry in her eyes. “Regina...?” she asked, concerned, “how badly did that... field thingy hurt you?”

 

“Most of my magic was forcibly ripped away from my body, Miss Swan,” she hissed, eyes closing as her hand reached to steady herself yet again. Her fangs were exposed, now, and Emma had to wonder how long that had been the case. Or if she was just so used to seeing Regina with fangs now that her mind no longer deemed it odd.

 

“Regina....”

 

Grimacing, the vampire braced herself against the stone wall that raised before them, just in front of the entrance to the Hive. “...I'm fine,” she insisted. “Your only concern right now should be Henry.”

 

Emma's eyes shone, staring at the injured Queen, teeth worrying her lower lip. She swallowed, her mind screaming at her that she did have a retort to that, but her mouth refused to say the words. Instead, she brought her gun back into readiness, checking around the doorway of the Hive, keeping watch.

 

“ **...** Emma,” Regina murmured, her eyes darting towards the looming doorway of the Hive and what undoubtedly lay inside of it. “...Should we get separated inside... don't look for me. You find our son, grab him, and go. Do _not_ wait for me. Understand?”

 

The Hunter refused to show her back to the Hive, and so did not turn to face Regina directly, instead hissing at the Queen over her shoulder, “What the hell are you talking about?”

 

Regina's face was unreadable, her eyes dark with emotion. She was staring at her hands, as if expecting them to burst into flame at any moment. Which, Emma realized, maybe she was.

 

“Regina...” she began, slipping closer to the brunette while still keeping a wary eye out for danger, “...you said it yourself: you don't need magic to beat her.”

 

The vampire Queen was shaking her head, her hands trembling lightly. “...I've never beaten her before, Emma,” she confessed. “And that was _with_ magic. Now... I'm only as powerful as any other vampire. The odds are even now.”

 

“No, they're not. You've got _me._ ” Emma grinned at her, and the cocky assurance in her eyes was enough to bring a tiny smile to Regina's lips. “Besides,” Emma continued, “you're Regina Mills. Mayor of Storybrooke, Queen of the vampires, adviser to the werewolves and head lady in charge of everything, remember? How can anyone have even odds against you?”

 

Regina couldn't help herself; she smiled, as if to say: 'well, when you put it like that...' A soft little chuckle slipped past her lips, and she nodded at Emma gratefully. “How indeed?” she murmured.

 

Together, the two mothers entered into the depths of the Hive unimpeded. Though certainly not unnoticed. The way was clear. Which, honestly, Emma found worrisome. This place was obviously infested with vampires- their signs were everywhere. Windowless walls- sense of old time grandeur and opulence. She almost thought she could hear the faint screams of victims inside. And even to her nose, the Hive reeked of blood and decay. There was an almost tangible feeling of oppression and pain in the air. Emma felt the hairs on her neck raise, and held her gun a little more tightly. “...We're being watched.”

 

“I know.” Regina's eyes fell closed, her nostrils flared. “Six, maybe seven of them. They stink of her and of blood. They're young. Ridiculously young. I could probably scare them off with a growl,” she scoffed, a scowl rising on her lips.

 

Emma hid a smile, glad to see her pep talk had returned some of Regina's humor. “Easy, there, your majesty,” she teased. “Don't make them wet themselves before I get a chance to shoot them.”

 

Chuckling, the vampire allowed herself a grin, though it did not quite reach her eyes. Together, they slipped into the keep of the Hive, moving along with the walls to their backs as much as they could. Now, the screaming was fully audible, along with the skitterings and far off whirs of whooshing vampires. They all seemed to keep their distance, though.

 

“ So...” Emma murmured lowly, keeping her senses trained for any sudden changes around them. “Any thoughts on how we find Henry?”

 

Regina's step faltered again, ever so slightly. “...We'll have to deal with my mother first, Emma.”

 

Together they continued forward, finally entering a wide, open chamber. Emma peered inside first, gun at the ready, and checked the corners. The room was dark, but appeared empty, so she slipped within it, sticking close to the wall, and waited for Regina to join her. “Okay... Any ideas on how to find her?”

 

Regina froze as soon as she entered the room, her nostrils flaring wide and hands raised automatically in front of her. She swallowed. “...I don't imagine it will be a problem,” she whispered. The door slammed shut behind them. The Queen of Storybrooke did not so much as bat an eye.

 

Around the edges of the chambers, lights suddenly burst into being, circling the room in a cold sort of glow, illuminating the dark corners and revealing exactly how exposed the two of them really were.

 

Dark, chilling laughter filled the room, and Emma's gun was instantly trained on its source: a throne, raised on a dais in the center of the chamber. She fired- once, twice, and more, emptying her gun for good measure. Each shot was followed by the satisfying sound of metal tearing through flesh, but when the echoes stopped, the figure on the throne remained unharmed.

 

The same could not be said for the guards around her throne, fallen to the floor in various puddles of old blood and viscera. Emma tossed the empty clip away, smacking a replacement quickly into the chamber and firing again. It was met with the same result: vampire guards suddenly whooshing to fill the empty spaces, coming in from all sides. Emma's eyes widened as the room seemed suddenly overrun with vampires, and she had no idea where the hell they had all come from. “... _Shit._ ”

 

Another laugh echoed from the throned woman. Resplendent in deep red velvet and cream silk, she held an elaborate Venetian mask in front of her face, but it quickly dropped, revealing her face. She seemed to survey the carnage, and then clicked her tongue in distaste. “Really, dear. If you're going to keep trying that, I'm afraid you're going to run out of bullets.” She nodded her head.

 

Above them, the ceiling stretched high, revealing that they were on the lowest level of what appeared to be an immense spiral staircase, every level filled to the brim with vampires. Cora clapped her hands. Another cadre of guards suddenly appeared from above, taking their places around the throne. Still more gathered around the edges of the chamber. There had to be dozens of them.

 

Pulling out another gun, Emma hazarded a glance above them, and then to the woman beside her. Storybrooke's Queen still appeared frozen, staring at the throne, her lips slightly parted. “Regina!” Emma hissed, trying to snap her out of it. “Regina, look at me!”

 

“Tell your human to heel, Regina. You're clearly outmatched.” The voice of the older Queen sounded pleased, as if she'd not been entirely sure that the younger Queen would show.

 

As if her mother's voice had broken a dam within her, Regina finally reacted. Spine suddenly ramrod straight, through gritted teeth, Regina responded. “...Miss Swan,” she hissed. “Shoot her.”

 

Emma's eyes widened in surprise, but Regina was no longer there to appreciate when Emma grasped a pistol in each hand and began firing. Storybrooke's Queen became a blur of motion, zipping around the room like a thing possessed, her hands tearing into the chests of the vampires who blurred, delayed, to fight for their own Queen. The chamber quickly began to run with blood.

 

Cora seemed amused by the bloodshed, at least at first. Emma's shots were always generally aimed at her, unless another vampire was more directly in her path. And as the shots kept coming, more and more vampires began to converge on the blonde. Eventually, though, the older Queen seemed to grow bored. “Enough!” she commanded. She waved her hand imperiously.

 

Surprised by the shout, Emma had only a split-second to react before dark tendrils of purple magic flew from Cora's fingers, clenching around her guns and dragging them to the floor. She shook against them, trying to fight it, but her brain seemed to stop functioning, backfiring over the sight of a vampire- not a Sunwalker, but just a normal vampire- doing magic.

 

Regina, wrist deep in yet another vampire's chest cavity, didn't seem to notice, and another wave of Cora's hand had the younger vampire suddenly forced against the far wall, hard enough for her body to crack at the impact. A trail of deep purple magic bound her at wrist and ankle.

 

“Regina!” Emma cried, her body swirling to follow the force of the magic. Her guns clattered uselessly from her hands, this magic stronger than most she had felt, and the Hunter suddenly found herself pushed down on her knees, though not by magic. Multiple vampires were now holding her down, one at each arm and leg, while another held her head. Frantic, she bucked against their holds, but even a Hunter with her amount of experience had few options, weaponless against five vampires. They leered at her with hungry eyes and toothy smiles, but made no moves to bite her. Not, Emma realized, without orders from their Queen. Helpless, her head was forced to the side, eyes falling on Regina's terrified form.

 

Storybrooke's Queen seemed frozen by far more than magic, staring at the purple bindings around her with wide eyes, and then raising them to her mother. “...It's not possible,” she whispered, tendrils of fear creeping around the edges of her voice. “This is...”

 

“Yours?” Cora only laughed, finally rising from her throne like the Queen she was, daintily setting her mask down on the seat behind her. “Indeed. Did you like the little present I left for you at the threshold, dear?”

 

Shaking her head as much as she could, Regina only stared at her mother, desperately trying to keep her fear at bay as Cora's hands glowed purple. “Present? What are you...”

 

Emma's eyes widened, her brain finally catching up. “...The dampening field. You took Regina's magic.”

 

She whooshed forwards, passing by Emma as if she were inconsequential until she stood directly in front of her daughter. “It's finite, of course- I don't know how long it will last. I had to drain out an entire fairy for this little trick, my love. But I do think it was worth it, don't you?”

 

Emma bristled, fighting against the vampires who held her all the more. “You're insane, lady!”

 

“I think that's quite enough out of you,” Cora snapped, and waved her hand to her vampires. “Drain her.”

 

Grinning with delight, the five vampires around Emma tightened their grips as she began to buck in earnest, her elbow coming into contact with the groin of one of them. He hissed in pain, but the others maintained their holds, bending heads towards her wrists. The one holding Emma's head yanked her hair, exposing her neck. Emma's gaze locked with Regina's, and the Queen could only yank her arms against the bonds of her own magic, her voice frantic. “Don't!” Regina cried out in her most imperious tones, struggling against her magic bonds. “Let her go!”

 

Faltering at the orders from a Queen, even one not their own, the vampires paused, one or two only inches away from sinking their fangs into Emma's flesh. Their grasps seemed to waver, and Emma bucked all the more, this time managing to knee another in the solar plexus until he doubled over.

 

Cora snarled, her gloved hand backhanding her daughter's cheek until thick blood dripped down from her lip. The older Queen's eyes blazed with fury. “Hold her!” she ordered, giving her daughter an irritated but knowing look. The vampires froze, their grasps reclaimed, and stretched Emma out tight like an animal to slaughter. Cora chuckled. “...I'll do it myself.”

 

“Mother, no! Let her go!” Regina commanded again, pushing herself out from the wall with an arch of her hips, frustrated and furious when her own magic refused to budge. Her eyes locked with Emma's, apology wide within them.

 

With a swagger in her hips and a grin on her face, Cora slipped away from the form of her bound daughter, moving with slow grace towards the human kneeling on the floor. Her leisurely pace was intentional; she wanted Regina to watch, and wanted Emma to know what awaited her. Emma's arms rippled as she fought against her captors, their long fingernails digging into her limbs so hard that her blood was already beginning to well. Cora closed her eyes as she knelt before the blonde, inhaling the sweet scent. She shot a look back at her daughter, and bent her head. Her fingers lightly caressed down Emma's cheek. She watched her reflection loom in Emma's eyes.

 

The Hunter spat at her, a wad of saliva coming to land on her cheek. Snarling, Cora wiped it away, her hand flying to slap cruelly against Emma's face. A growl rose, low and imposing, from her throat. “You're going to wish you hadn't done that,” she hissed and bared her fangs, bringing her head down towards Emma's throat in a single strike, like a cobra.

 

Emma's eyes squeezed shut, her nightmares become real, and just prayed it would be over soon. Regina murmured her name, and she could have sworn there were tears behind it.

 

With a jerk, Cora's entire body buckled, the barest tips of her fangs brushing against the blonde's throat, but going no further. Snapping her head back, the old Queen stared at the human, disbelieving, and tried again. Another quake rocked through her core, her fangs physically unable to bite. She tried again, and again, and then a wave of golden light shot out from Emma's chest, blinding the vampires and forcing all six of them several feet back.

 

Emma blinked. “What the hell-?”

 

Cora landed in a heap next to her, a sneer on her lips. She shot a nasty, hate-filled look at her daughter, and rushed to fist her hand in Emma's shirt. “She's Claimed!” she spat, thrusting the human away from her, utterly disgusted. Emma's skull smacked against the stone floor, bones meeting with a sickening crunch.

 

That, more than the threat of her being bitten, cause Regina to scream. “Emma!” The blonde stayed down, her eyes glossy and body motionless.

 

Cora kicked at her still form, and then wheeled, rushing back to her daughter in a blur and grabbing her by the throat. “Really, dear, Claiming humans again? I thought I'd rid you of that habit.”

 

Regina stared her down, nothing but hate in her eyes. She was tempted to follow Emma's example and spit directly in her mother's face. Instead, she merely snarled. “You did, Mother,” she hissed through a strangled windpipe. “I just never learn from my mistakes.”

 

Thrusting her head back until it, too, knocked against the wall, Cora bared her fangs at her daughter, but then stopped, considering. “Still,” her grip loosened just a bit, “at least you're drinking from the source again. I can't tell you how much that pleases me. Or how surprised I was to see that your _son,_ ” and she spit the word out as if it physically disgusted her, “knew how to do the same, when I forced it of him.”

 

Regina's eyes were instantly aflame, all traces of fear or tears vanished from them. “Henry,” she breathed. “What the hell have you done with my son?!”

 

“Oh, really, my love,” Cora clucked. Her eyes were hard, the backs of her fingers running, almost tenderly, down her face. “Not half as much as I'm going to do to you.” She waved her hand again, and the purple bonds holding Regina shifted, dropping her down from the wall and instead binding her arms behind her back,legs hobbled together, not unlike how Cora had had her fairy trussed up a little while before. “But since you're so concerned, I'll show you to him. And then, my dear, I'll show you _exactly_ what was done to him.”

 

With a delighted grin, she pushed Regina forward, stumbling, out of the throne room. The rest of her vampires dispersed, their entertainment gone. Little further thought was given to the crumpled form of the blonde on the floor. Or the fact that she was clearly still breathing, her guns scattered around her body, within her reach.

 


	16. To go Dancing with the Devil in the Pale Moonlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Regina finds herself in a painful position.

**Chapter XVI**

 

“You know, Regina,” Cora said almost lightly, pulling on specially shielded gloves as she regarded her daughter, lying lengthwise on the table. “I'm really rather disappointed in you. You've become incredibly predictable.”

 

Stroybrooke's Queen remained silent, her eyes hooded and dark, her face expressionless. The tears had stopped falling, but their dried tracks remained in dark lines on her cheeks. In the silence, the whirrings and chirps of the various machinery around them seemed all the louder.

 

“Nothing to say, dear?” Cora's brow raised in amusement. “Or do you finally agree with me?”

 

“No word I can think of deserves to be wasted on you.”

 

Cora only chuckled darkly, giving a vicious tug to the ends of the magic that she still controlled, forcing her daughter's limbs to spread. Regina's lips peeled back in a silent hiss of pain, her back arching beneath the bonds. Her mother shook her head as if in disgust. She leered over the fallen Queen, reaching out to tangle gloved fingers into Regina's hair and tugged, forcing her to look at her. “He's very much like you, you know,” she said conversationally. “Your son. You'll have to thank him when you see him. So much of the preliminary work is out of the way, thanks to him.”

 

The younger Queen instantly bristled, her eyes whirling in dark pools as a snarl split her face. For a tiny moment, the purple magic holding her captive flared violently before flickering dangerously pale. Regina strained against her bonds until her veins were visible, the muscles in her neck corded under her skin. “Show him to me!” she demanded. “You said you'd show me!”

 

The magic she'd stolen was fading. Cora could feel in in her very blood. Quickly, she reached for the first of the silver bands near Regina's arms. She had no idea, after all, how long the hold on her daughter's magic would last. Magic was foreign to her- unpredictable. Silver was far safer. She smiled coolly, unwilling to let the uncertainty show, and snapped the bond into place. A stake of solid silver, around which spread a thick strap that bolted into the table. The pointed end pierced into Regina's wrist until the blood pooled in a harsh mockery of crucifixion. She screamed. Cora gave a dark laugh at the sound. “I did, didn't I?”

 

She finished with the rest of the bonds, puncturing through wrists and ankles alike, tightening the last just as the final traces of Regina's magic fizzled out of her control. Despite the pain lurching through her limbs, the younger Queen actually seemed relieved, giving a soft sigh as the smell of magic dissipated. At least her own power would no longer be perverted against her.

 

Cora regarded her like a spider with a fly; something to be consumed, and therefore beneath her. She gestured to another long table, opposite the one Regina lay upon. This one was covered by a length of red cloth, covering the shape of what seemed to be a small person. It wasn't moving.

 

Regina's eyes bulged. “Henry!” she screamed. The silver made bit deeply into Regina's skin, eliciting another shocked gasp as it burned against her, holding her down.

 

“Oh, he can't answer you, dear,” Cora laughed, reminding herself to congratulate Victor the next time she saw him. She had wondered at the decision to cover the boy when she'd first seen it, but shrugged it off as part of the good Doctor's flair for the dramatic. Now, though, she approved. It would be so much more exquisite to see the look on her daughter's face as she pulled that cloth off the boy....

 

Eyes wide with fury, Regina's limbs lurched against the silver bonds the same as they'd done against those of her own magic, caring not a whit as each surge forced the silver to tear further into damaged, smoking skin. “If you have so much as _touched_ him...”

 

“Oh, I've done far worse, dear,” Cora smirked, running a long fingernail down the tip of her daughter's nose. “What, exactly, do you intend to do about it?”

 

Once again, Regina said nothing, the murderous look in her eyes only building further, tears once more threatening to spill over the dried tracks on her cheeks. But these nearly glinted with her rage. Her gaze snapped back to the bundled form of Henry as it gave a weak cry, and she echoed it with another thrash against the silver.

 

Noticing, her mother gave an almost cooing noise of sympathy beside her. “I know, my love,” she sighed, patting Regina's cheek lightly.“You really haven't changed at all. This...” her hand moved down, resting over Regina's breastbone. Over her heart. “This has always been your weakness. Your love thrums through your veins like a sickness; your blood stinks of it. It always has. But I can help you, dear. I'll drain it from you, just as I have before. You'll thank me for it.”

 

Staring in horror at the hand and then at Cora's face, Regina could only shake her head. “'Thank you?!'” she echoed. “You've destroyed my entire life, Mother! Every time I get the chance to be happy! ...What the hell do you _want_ from me?!”

 

“Oh, Regina,” the older vampire lightly clucked, smiling beatifically. “The same thing I've always wanted from you, dear.”

 

Seething, Regina just blinked at her, and Cora leered lower, bringing her face only inches away from Regina's own. The harsh light of the room glinting over her fangs. “Perfection.”

 

Regina said nothing at this revelation, her mouth gone dry. She could only barely swallow, a soft, whimpering choking noise slipping from low in her throat. Her eyes locked onto the red cloth. “Henry...” She shot a death glare at her mother. “...Show me what the hell you've done to my son.”

 

“Language, Regina,” Cora clucked, again running a teasing hand lightly down her daughter's cheek in a cruel semblance of affection. “But very well.” She stepped forward, grabbing a handful of cloth. With all the grandeur of a stage magician, she whipped the sheet back with a flourish. Her laughter dulled to a startled shout of rage.

 

Trussed up like an animal to slaughter, a wad of leather stuffed in his mouth, was Victor Frankenstein. Henry was nowhere in sight.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Regina was laughing. Staring over her mother's shoulder at the bound man in the lab coat, she couldn't help but laugh, her relief practically palpable as it washed over the room.

 

Furious, Cora was ripping the sodden leather out of the doctor's mouth, the unfortunate man just barely regaining consciousness before Cora's hand was around his neck. “Where is he?!”

 

Coughing and sputtering, Victor had no answer. Fingers clawed in the front of his coat, Cora lifted the man without effort, pulling the dazed doctor directly in front of her face and demanding so vehemently that spittle flew from the tips of bared fangs. “What happened?!”

 

Victor wheezed, his mouth barely able to process the function of words through the haze of head trauma. “He...” he gasped, and could only point as his airflow constricted.

 

Seeing what was indicated, Regina continued to laugh, her head falling back against the dark wood of the table, limbs finally relaxing against her bonds. She gave a quiet, satisfied sigh.

 

Snarling, Cora practically threw the man to the ground, sweeping over him as she bent down to the table beneath him. Her fingers latched on to one of the silver chains, her anger so great that she barely even hissed when the metal bit through her skin. A single link had been partially sawed, then snapped in half. Screaming her frustration, Cora flung the chain away and watched it collide with one of dozens of small needles, all with their points worn down to the nub.

 

“My clever boy...” For the first time since she'd been trapped by her own magic, Regina smiled, a joyous, relieved laugh echoing around the room. Her eyes slid up to her mother's face. “You're going to lose,” she murmured almost happily.

 

Rushing back to her daughter's side, Cora's hand shot out to circle around Regina's neck, stilling her laughter. Regina stared back, calm and collected and completely unswayed. Sneering down at her, Cora leaned forward, looking as though she was preparing to end her daughter's existence once and for all. A croaking cough from Victor stayed her hand, dark eyes snapping back to the doctor as he indicated his hands, still bound together.

 

Stepping back, Cora turned away from her daughter, giving herself a moment. Freeing the doctor with a quick slash of her hands, she turned the power of her ire on him, staring intently as he rubbed sore wrists, straightening the tails of his lab coat until Cora finally snapped at him to get to work.

 

He did, moving as quickly as sore limbs would allow. Cora closed her eyes, grinning when a pained shout from her daughter signified the first of Victor's needles plunging into her skin. She waved off her irritation. The boy may have escaped, but her true prize was here, neatly packaged and ready. She smirked at her daughter as she finally answered. “No dear. I don't believe I am.”

 

 

* * *

 

**Elsewhere**

 

Emma's head was aching. She was vaguely aware of someone calling her name. The floor was cold beneath her.

 

She became aware of these things slowly, her mind taking several long moments to process through the screaming pain of her headache.

 

Someone's tongue was on her skin. This was more cause of concern: the wet, sandpapery feeling dragging along her hairline, just above her left ear. Tasting her blood. Fighting down the bile rising in her throat, both from the head injury as well as the act being performed on her, she lay still, her eyelids just barely cracking open enough to get a good look at the vampire bent over her.

 

Pokes and prods were being made with cautious hands and fingers across the span of her body, as if testing its softness, before pulling away with noises of approval. The tips of fangs gave the barest graze over flushed skin. With all the suddenness of a bug zapper, the teeth jerked back, their owner propelled back by a golden wave of force. There was a hiss of pain, and then a resigned grunt.

 

Just enough time for Emma's fingers to twitch, the smallest of them brushing against something metal. Something familiar. A hand clasped around the handle of the pistol. Green eyes shot open, a resounding, ominous click ricocheted through the room, giving the vampire a chance to look up before the gun fired.

 

A new puddle joined the rest of the viscera on the floor, spreading around blonde hair streaked with blood. Some of it her own.

 

Emma gave a soft grunt, and opened her eyes again. It was incredibly dark- barely enough light to see. Even she had very little idea how she'd been able to make the shot. She winced, lips peeling back in a silent hiss of pain as her protesting body spiraled into another level of swimming agony. She took a deep, steadying breath; in through her nose, out through her mouth.

 

Her name was still being called. She heard it gradually, at the very periphery of her perceptions, as if far away or at the other end of a tunnel. Emma shrugged off the feeling- her head was aching a little too much to pay much attention. Until the voice became suddenly recognizable, and her head turned to find its source.

 

It was Regina.

 

She was screaming.

 

* * *

 

**Outside**

 

Ruby gave an exasperated sigh, taking a moment to run her hands through her hair and stretch out her muscles. Her lower lip slipped between her teeth, biting on it for a moment before releasing it with another ragged sigh. Beside her, Anita was still out cold, body slumped against a tree while she and Granny finished with their knots. The stretcher had been a last-minute consideration, cobbled together from fallen limbs and twines of ivy. As their conveyance was nearing completion, Ruby glanced from it over to her mother, and then to her grandmother. “...Do you really think this is going to work?” It was, after all, a ridiculous plan.

 

Granny harrumphed in reply, testing the tension of a knot before tightening the vine a little further with her teeth. She shot her granddaughter a knowing, harried glance. “No,” she admitted, “but I think we'd have kicked ourselves if we hadn't tried.”

 

Ruby continued to worry her lower lip, shifting her gaze to rest over her mother. The drug they'd given her was supposedly good for nearly a full day, even on the strongest of werewolves, but Ruby had another dose to give her just in case. So far, it didn't look like she'd need it.

 

Offering a small though uncertain smile, Granny reverted back into a standard tactic for Alphas: barking orders. “Help me get her tied down. We're nearly ready.”

 

Shuffling into action, Ruby hurried to comply, lifting the unconscious form of her mother as if she weighed nothing and placed her down on the stretcher.

 

 

* * *

 

 

As quickly as possible while still clinging to caution, Emma crept along the corridors of the Hive. Now that her eyes had adjusted and she'd had time to analyze the layout, she was realizing that it was an immense spiral, with the throne room at its center and the main staircase curling around it. The secondary hall sloped downwards with branches sweeping out to the sides, and again curling in. The entire design was dizzying, reminding her of an elaborate hedge maze. She chose to head down.

 

Her presence did not go unnoticed, but the Hunter could not be bothered with the vampires that managed to find her in ones or twos. Her weapons had suffered no ill effects from her time unconscious, and with each new threat another shot rang out through the halls, spraying the walls with dark, sticky blood.

 

She didn't worry overly much about the noise from her guns. They were beginning to get overpowered by other, far more unsettling sounds.

 

The screams had not dissipated. If anything, they'd grown louder and higher in pitch, until it was almost impossible to discern them from the machinery that she was also beginning to detect. But no machine had ever been made that could so chill the blood as those high, agonized squeals. Like something was being butchered. Emma's gun quivered in her hand, and she actually had to pause to lean against one of the walls as bile rose in her throat. She forced it down, but could do nothing but grit her teeth as her skin broke out in a clammy sweat.

 

From down the hall, she heard a dragging, shuffling sound, coming at her fast. Pressing her back to the wall, she took up a defensive position, keeping both hands on the barrel of her gun, knowing she still had a shot or two left before it rang empty. The sound drew closer. Gritting her teeth, she aimed for chest-height, pulling the trigger as soon as the vamp came into view.

 

The shot clattered harmlessly against the wall, whizzing bare inches over the figure's head. Startled, he jumped, shuffling back against the wall with a small cry. His eyes blinked, stared. Blinked again. “...Emma?”

 

His voice was haggard and broken, but to Emma it was one of the best sounds in the entire world.

 

“Henry!” She threw down the empty gun, disgusted with it and with herself for having come only inches away from shooting her son in the head. She lurched forward from the wall, and then the small, bloodstained boy was running at Emma with all the power of a small freight train.

 

Most of his wounds were healed already or in the process of, only the largest of them still oozing with slow, sluggish blood. But he fought through the hisses of pain that exploded when he wrapped his arms tightly around his birth mother, bursting into tears and holding her like he would never, ever let go. “I knew you'd come for me,” he gasped.

 

With tears of her own falling from her cheek, she pulled the boy into her arms, tucking his head under her chin and not giving a damn about how much crap he was covered in. “Oh, Henry,” she murmured softly, holding him tight. “Of course we did.” She smoothed back his hair, resting her cheek on his forehead and closing her eyes, just holding him for a long, long moment.

 

After what seemed like years, he pulled back just a little, blinking up at her with eyes full of hope and love. But also confusion. His gaze bounced around the hall before landing once again on her face, and she knew before his mouth opened what his question would be. “...Where's Mom?”

 

She had no answer to give him.

 

Another scream, high and shrill and haunting in the sheer amount of pain contained within, began to echo through the halls around them. She felt the urge to grab Henry's head, cover his ears and protect him from the sound. Inside the scream, she could still make out Regina's voice. Her stomach knotted, sour bile once more beginning to rise within her, but she forced herself to instead cling to a tiny shred of hope. Regina was still alive.

 

Head tilting as the screams echoed around him, Henry looked up at her with terror-stricken eyes. “...They're gonna kill her.”

 

She could only swallow roughly, her words turning to ash in her mouth.

 

Her son jumped as another scream rent the air, and then he was frantically yanking on her arm, pulling back down the hall he'd just run down. “Come on, they're down this way!”

 

“Henry!”

 

“I know where they are!” he insisted, tears dripping down his nose. “I know what they're doing to her, Emma! They're gonna kill her! We've got to help her!”

 

“I know!” Her grasp tightened around the familiar weight of the nearest gun: the one Regina had enchanted what felt like years ago. Even though the magic had been stripped from her and the enchantment had worn off, Emma found it somehow comforting- a link to the Queen whose screams still rang in her ears. “I know, Henry. And I promise, I'm gonna come back for your mom, okay? But I promised I'd get you safe first, kid.”

 

“But-!” he tried to protest, but a sudden sound had Emma's hand shooting out to shush him.

 

Down the corridor came the unmistakeable whoosh of vamps. Lots of vamps. They'd probably heard them arguing. “Shit,” she whispered, and a small internal voice tsked at her for cursing in front of her son. “We've gotta go, kid,” she murmured. Scooping the boy into her arms, she ran, ignoring both his protests and the voice in the back of her mind that screamed at her. She slid down the hall, between the doors of a small antechamber. Almost immediately, she wished she'd picked a different door. It was a torture chamber, though thankfully unoccupied.

 

Behind them, the hall was now crawling with vamps. Struggling with the heavy frame of the door, Emma slammed the lock in place just in time for what had to be two dozen vamps to throw themselves at the door, making the oak shudder on its hinges. Gritting her teeth, Emma pulled her son behind her, eyes darting around to analyze the room for any other exits.

 

Towards the bottom of the back wall was a small hole- a sluice gate, made for the drainage of water or other liquids she shuddered to think of. Wordlessly, she rushed him to it. It was too small for her to fit through, but just barely big enough for him. Yanking the gate away from the wall, she tossed him in the drain. “Henry,” she hissed. “Go. Get out of here as fast as you can, and when you get out, run for the top of the hill.”

 

“But what about Mom?!”

 

“Henry, I-”

 

“No!” With the stubborn solemnity of a child, Henry stared at her, refusing to budge. In that moment, he looked every inch Regina's son; the son of a Queen “...I Claimed you,” he insisted. “So I can order you to save her. You have to.”

 

Between them, the Claim burned. Emma felt it in her blood, saw it firing behind her eyes like the flashbulb of a camera. She hissed at the sensation and gave a ragged sigh, regarding the boy in front of her with a resigned glare. “...I'll get her,” she promised, kissing his forehead. A warmth of light bloomed within her chest, spilling out around him. She smiled back, ruffling his hair as if they weren't in mortal danger. “I would have anyway, you know.”

 

He smiled, nodding with approval. “I know.”

 

Behind them, the door shuddered again, close to splintering. With grave urgency, she pushed him back towards the drain. “I love you,” she told him, and turned away, reaching for the nearest gun just as the door began to shatter to pieces. The sound was enough to send Henry jumping, and he slipped down into the drain, making himself as small as possible. Emma fired at the doorway, shooting through the cracks.

 

“Go!” she screamed, and her gun fired again, splattering the entrance of the small tunnel with a spray of red. A few flecks of blood fell onto his face and Henry jerked back in surprise. His foot slipped on a small rock, sliding him down on slick flagstones a few more feet into the darkness. He could no longer see his birth mother, but the gunshots continued to fire in quick succession, one right after the other, and soon the drain was running with blood, building up behind him until it, too, propelled him forward, down the drain and far away from his mothers. In the distance, he could almost swear he could make out the glare of natural light.

 

* * *

 

 

Bent over low as she began to cinch tight the first of many knots, Granny's eyebrow quirked in question, the smell of dried blood and something... other flitting into her nose. She sniffed derisively. “What is _that?”_ she hissed, snuffing to get the scent out.

 

Nose crinkling as she caught whiff, Ruby's head turned in question, seeking out its source. Her eyes peered down to the Hive, focusing on a small section of wall near the base of a bit of grate- little more than a drain.

 

A small figure was creeping along it, slinking slowly until it finally emerged into the light. Weakened, it stumbled, wrenching itself forward away from the hold of the Hive until it fell, tumbling, down the drainage ditch.

 

Granny adjusted her glasses as she struggled to make sense of what she was seeing. Her eyes suddenly widened in recognition. “Oh my god,” she hissed. “It's Henry!”

 

Ruby was already running, fur sprouting over her body as she raced down the hill towards the small boy.

 

* * *

 

 

Alone, Emma faced the onslaught of vamps with guns blazing, firing shot after shot at the oncoming horde. The broken door kept them from all rushing in at once, only one or two managing to squeeze through at a time. But she knew that wouldn't last. Nor, sadly, would her ammunition. She was down to her last clip.

 

As the remains of the door crumbled and the small chamber began to fill with vampires, she swallowed, blinking back the realization that there were too many. The magazine of her gun clicked empty. Her gun hand fell to her side. Seeing her weaponless, the vampires charged, whooshing upon her with every intent, she knew, to rend her limb from limb.

 

She closed her eyes. The Claim still burned behind them, tugging at her like a nagging itch. “...I'm sorry, Henry,” she murmured, knowing he was long gone. If nothing else, at least she'd gotten him to safety, and gotten to see him one last time. Regina didn't have that luxury. Regina would never see him again.

 

She would never see Regina again.

 

That thought burned in her mind like a brand, sizzling through every other thought. As the first of the vampires reached her, their cold fingers clenching over her arms, she allowed that thought to take root, calling to mind an image of her Queen's face. Smiling at her. She smiled at the memory. At least, if this had to be her last thought, it was a good one.

 

She felt clammy hands circle her neck, brushing across her hair. Preparing to snap her neck. Emma relaxed her body into it.

 

“...Regina.”

 

Even despite the snarls and howls of victory that fell from the vampire's hungry mouths, her whisper seemed to echo around the room, bouncing back and forth until it was nearly deafening. Until it rang, transformed, back into her ears.

 

“ _...Emma.”_

 

A brilliant wave of light washed over her, spraying the entire hall with gold. It felt divine- like the first light of a spring sun after a long, bitter winter. If this was death... well, it really wasn't so bad. It was warm and wonderful and incredibly familiar, bringing back to her the memory of the fight outside Stroybrooke, when Regina and Maleficent had joined their energies to harness the sun even in the dead of night. Even with the vamps crawling around her, Emma felt serene, utterly at peace- like she had when Henry had drank from her. Warm and safe and loved- physically wrapped inside a bubble of joy.

 

She inhaled, feeling utterly content. She exhaled. Her eyes opened.

 

Emma found herself in the same chamber, but alone. And she was, to her utter surprise, not dead. She was, however, wet. Everything, from the tips of her hair to the heels of her boots, was completely and utterly drenched with red gore, more of which dripped from the ceiling and coated every surface of the room. But the vamps- all of the vamps- were gone.

 

Wholly confused, she looked herself over, running a hand over her arms, her legs. Everything seemed to be working. The gun was still heavy in her hand. Confused, she raised it and fired a shot at the empty wall. Though she had put no clip into the chamber, it fired. Regina's enchantment was back.

 

Confused as all hell, Emma nevertheless caressed the gun in her hand fondly with sticky fingers, an awed expression on her face.

 

She wasn't dead.

 

Another bone-chilling scream pierced through the silence of her awe, making her shoulders tense. The sound physically hurt, her muscles fairly screaming themselves. She took it as a good sign.

 

Haltingly, almost as if she'd forgotten how, she took a step. And then another, until she was back into the hallway. Slowly at first, she picked up her pace until she was running, tearing down the direction her son had come from. She'd figure everything else out later. For now, the Claim still weighed heavy in her mind, and the screams- quieter now, she was chilled to notice- lead her the rest of the way.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Weak and only half-conscious, Regina's eyes opened, a voice hoarse from screaming giving out a tired little sigh. The barest hint of a smile crept around the edge of her lips. “She's coming,” she murmured, more to herself than anything else.

 

Off to the side, doctor Frankenstein fiddled with a switch before throwing it. From Regina's cringe of dread, this had obviously been done before. A shock of white light crackled through the needles sticking out of her, collecting in their tips before penetrating into her body. The Queen writhed on the table, back arching to involuntarily yank against the silver stakes that held her down. Another keening scream rent from pale, chapped lips, going on for what seemed like years.

 

As the latest surge of electricity finally died down, Cora barely even looked at her, her eyes instead glued to the glass jars rapidly filling with blood. “What are you muttering about now, dear? Any interesting last words?”

 

With a soundless chuckle, Regina only shook her head. She was whimpering now- long since out of tears, but the dry, heaving sobs that wracked through her all left her lips in the same shape. The same word she had been screaming, over and over, for the last hour. “Emma...”

 

Cora sighed in irritation, turning back to the doctor and his equipment. “Well?” she demanded.

 

“Nearly done, your Majesty,” he answered in clipped tones, sweeping back and forth between two panels of equipment and furiously writing things down upon a clipboard. “Another cycle or two should do it.”

 

“Excellent,” hissed the Queen. “Much as I enjoy hearing her scream, even I begin to grow tired after a while.”

 

If the doctor was going to reply, he was interrupted. A sudden crash shuddered through the room, knocking a few baubles of his more precariously placed equipment to the floor.

 

Something strong and very, very angry had impacted the door to the chamber, hard enough even to rouse the Doctor from his intense monitoring of his machines. “What the hell is that?!” he asked, glancing over to Cora.

 

The door crashed again, beginning to split down the veins of the wood. Golden light seeped in through the cracks, spilling into the room from around the frame.

 

“...Your majesty?” Victor asked, looking nervously at Cora, her brow furrowed in a dark line across her face.

 

Plucking up a serrated-edged knife, the older Queen stormed up to her daughter, putting the blade to her throat without hesitation. “What. Is. That?” she hissed.

 

Even staked down as she was, even with so little energy remaining, Regina managed a laugh. “And y-you say... I'm pr-predictable,” she wheezed. “You're so f-focused on me,” she hissed, her voice rough and haggard, but not yet fully broken. “On m-my son, that you've completely ...neglected what _else_ I mi-might have brought to your pre-precious Hive.” She spat the last word out with as much venom as she could muster.

 

Cora's eyes widened, her jaw gone slack.

 

The door failed in a final massive crunch, caving inward. Through the splinters of wood, gun-raised, grim-faced and covered in gore, stepped Emma Swan.

 


	17. If you Want my Love...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Regina is not the only one more than she seems...

 

 

**Chapter XVII**

  
  


Spattered in mud and dried blood and more things he didn't want to think about, an incredibly weary Henry made his way down the drainage ditch. His progress was slow- the drain was uneven, and at times he was only barely able to squeeze his body along its length. He'd been shoved in feet-first, which helped matters little, and the only progress he could make was by scooting forward, pushing back on the slick stones with his hands.

  
  


He had no idea how long it had been since Emma had shoved him down here. Long enough that the air within the ditch was finally beginning to be less fetid. He almost thought he could feel a breeze, every once in a while. When he craned his neck to peer over his feet, he would have sworn he could make out the faint outline of trees. But his vision was swimming, deceptive; the physical pricks and holes sustained by the needles in that torture room may have mostly healed, but he had still been drained of quite a bit of his blood.

  
  


After what seemed like hours, his feet finally skidded on the stones beneath him. He kicked out, trying to regain his footing, but his legs hit only open air. The eight-year old spilled out of the drain like the blood than ran beneath him, falling into the faded rays of daylight just before sunset. Hissing as the sun's rays cast over his weakened body, he could only barely see the slight smoke that rose from his skin. He tried to find his footing, but stumbled, falling gracelessly down the end of the ditch. He was too weak, had lost too much blood to withstand sun exposure.

  
  


Rolling to a stop, Henry pushed himself forward, clawing his way in any direction that was away from the Hive. Away from the pain and the blood and the death. Away from his grandmother. Finding a shadow large enough to keep most of the sun away from his skin, he closed his eyes and rolled into a ball, hoping somehow that if he made himself as small as possible, the pain would no longer find him. It was ridiculous and he knew it, but he was beyond exhausted, too tired and far too young to do anything more than curl up and cry. He wanted his Mom to come wrap him in her arms and kiss away his tears as she had when he was tiny. But she was inside, being tortured, and he had no idea if he'd ever see her again. The thought made him whimper.

  
  


A sudden force knocked into his shoulder, and he gasped at the shock of it, cringing a moment later when the motion caused his face to slip out of the shadow and into the sun. He screeched, drawing back in on himself. Only after he'd finished screaming could he hear the worried-sounding whine coming from directly in front of him.

  
  


Uncertainly, his eyes blinked open, dizzily taking in the black form casting the shadow he was hiding in. The immense wolf pawed at his shoulder again, another whine sounding from the back of its throat. With a gasping intake of breath, Henry's eyes opened wide, taking in the wolf and trying, unsuccessfully, to back away. The wolf whined at him again, bending down to nuzzle lightly over his hair.

  
  


“Ruby...?”

  
  


The wolf yapped happily in the affirmative.

  
  


With a ragged, chocking sigh of relief, Henry crumpled forward against the wolf, tangled his fingers in her fur and promptly began to sob. He felt more than heard the answering whine of understanding, relaxing as teeth clamped into the remains of his shirt, lifting the eight-year old off the ground as if he weighed nothing. Still crying, Henry wrapped his arms about the underside of Ruby's thick neck, and held on as she carried him backwards up the hill, keeping him in her shadow all the while.

  
  


 

* * *

 

**Inside**

  
  


  
  


_...Drip._

  
  


_...Drop._

  
  


For long, sickening moments, the only motion apart from the machines were the plinks of congealing gore as drops fell sluggishly from various low points of Emma's body.

  
  


As her eyes slid to Regina and the hungry-looking needles piercing her body, a low cry ripped itself out of Emma's throat. She felt her body wrench, half-stepping to the side in an uncontrollable convulsion, watching as the tubes attached to her Queen still funneled blood in small doses to their collecting jars, sparking with small twitches of electricity. With a snarl, Emma stepped fully into the room, her gaze darting around to take stock of any other threats. Only the shocked-looking Victor, his fingers twitching nervously beside one of the many machines still chugging merrily away. He looked ready to bolt. Decision made, he tried it. Emma's gun swerved imperceptibly fast in his direction, a shot blasting through the room. A glass globe shattered in a splatter of shards and sparks, the machinery within screeching to a stop. Beneath the spray, Victor fell to the floor, still and unmoving. Emma did not have to look to see the blood beginning to pool beneath him. Her eyes were riveted to Cora, to the gleaming knife in her hand, and to the figure staked with silver to the table.

  
  


Regina lay completely still, the slight shifting of her eyes the only evidence that she still lived. Her skin was far too pale and wan for Emma's liking, her body looking small and fragile beneath the weight of all the needles. Her lips parted in a slight smile, despite the obvious agony she must be in. Wordlessly, her lips made the shapes of Emma's name. Then, a low, almost hissing, more like an over boiled teakettle than anything that normally came from between lips.

  
  


“Miss Swan,” Regina's voice was ragged and quiet- the suave, sultry undertones almost completely screamed away. Still, Emma could swear she still heard the smile behind it, and she realized that the hissing was Regina trying to laugh. “What sort of time do you call this?”

  
  


A sigh of relief burst out of the Hunter, a smile teasing at the corners of her lips. Regina was still able to snark. It was reassurance enough to allow Emma to stop herself from running over to her Queen's side, but only just. “Sorry, your Majesty.” Her grip tightened on the handle of her gun, the glare that she turned on Cora the most ferocious she could muster. “I had to take care of a few things.”

  
  


Cora was staring at the wash of red spreading slowly out from beneath Victor's body. “Pity,” she murmured, just loud enough for Emma to hear. Sighing as if at the waste of good blood, the older vampire's attention moved back to Regina. “Really, my dear?” she asked her daughter, incredulity in her eyes. The knife waved casually before once more digging slightly into Regina's throat. “You expect your pet human to be your big salvation? You've become even more pathetic than I'd thought.” None of her words were directed at Emma, of course. The human was only just barely above being beneath her notice.

  
  


Emma's gun hand did not waver, but that knife so close to Regina's throat gave her pause. Any other time, it wouldn't have been much of a threat at all. But Regina was weak. Yhe tubes that sprouted from the needles imbedded within her Queen had done their work well, nearly filling the large glass container at their ends completely with dark, viscous blood. From the looks of it, she'd been almost completely drained. The fact that Regina was still conscious, much less speaking at all, was impressive. Emma didn't know what losing any more blood would do to her, but she didn't like the odds. Her best chance was to keep that knife away, which meant drawing Cora's attention. Emma smirked. She could do that. “Not even you can outrun a bullet, Lady.”

  
  


Cora still ignored her, her head tipping slightly back, both sets of fangs visible as her mouth opened. Her eyes flashed like a strobe light; completely black and then back to normal. Emma had seen that done before, and inwardly cursed. Cora was summoning her progeny. “I'll leave my swarm to deal with your pet, Regina,” she smiled.

  
  


“Yeah, I don't think you'll find many in a state to answer you,” Emma shrugged. “Most of them are puddles right now.”

  
  


That, finally, warranted Cora's attention, and dark eyes flicked uncertainly to the blood-soaked blonde.

  
  


Emma's smirk grew. “Like I said: there were some things I had to take care of.” The last was said more to Regina, offering a silent apology for having taken so long.

  
  


Dark eyes locked with Emma's as solidly as she could manage. Her Queen's lips formed another word, taking advantage of Cora's distraction to ask what was most fully on her mind, though she lacked the strength to fully give it voice. 'Henry?'

  
  


“He's safe,” Emma smiled as reassuringly as she could. “Out of the Hive.”

  
  


Regina's relief was obvious, sagging against the table and closing her eyes.

  
  


Oblivious to the exchange, Cora's mirth had disappeared, her lips parting in a grimace of anger. She tried her summons again, on anyone who would listen. And then again. When she finally realized that she was well and truly alone, Cora glanced down at her daughter, who did her best to smirk as much as she could. “...Well, then,” Cora murmured, as if to herself. For the first time, she seemed to actually take stock of the blood-covered blonde before her. The corner of her mouth rose. “How hard can it be to kill one human?” With that, she whirled away from the table in a move so fast that the motion didn't even blur.

  
  


 

* * *

 

  
  


From her place on the hill, Granny watched as Ruby made her halting progress, carrying her precious cargo shaded with the bulk of her body. Her pace was slow but steady, moving backwards up the hill a foot at a time to ensure that Henry remained safe from the harmful rays of the early evening sun.

  
  


The Alpha's lips pursed in thought, brow furrowed. “I hope you don't honestly think you're sneaking up on me.” There was an almost imperceptible rustle from behind her. She didn't turn, but her eyes rolled at the lack of response. “I didn't think it was possible, but you're even stupider than you look.”

  
  


A snarl ripped from behind her, followed by a rush of motion. Granny smirked to herself, finally turning to face the threat. In her arms, her crossbow fired. A shout of pain echoed through the trees.

  
  


Cursing up a storm with a bolt protruding solidly from his leg, Hook stumbled, catching himself from completely falling by throwing out his right hand. Another yowl of pain filled the air when it impacted the ground, the earlier wound from the same crossbow having neatly shattered his right wrist. From the ground, Hook glared up at the old woman, involuntary tears in his eyes. With a grimace and a cry, his left hand snaked to the shaft of the bolt in his leg, snapping it in half. Staring up at her with hate in his eyes, he yanked on the barbed, embedded head, screaming in agony as it ripped out of his leg.

  
  


She clucked her tongue as if berating a young puppy. “You should push it through, you know. Pulling does more damage than it did on its way in.”

  
  


Eyes flashing yellow, Hook threw his head back and howled as it finally cleared his skin. He tossed the bolt aside with disgust and growled, trying to get to his feet and grunting loudly at the pain it caused him. The Alpha levered the crossbow at him again. He snarled. “Put the toy away, lass. Let's settle this like wolves.”

  
  


Granny seemed to pause for half a second, considering. The crossbow lowered. Seeing it as a moment of indecision, Hook jumped at the old woman, beginning to transform and charging at her as quickly as he could on his injured limbs. Suddenly, he came to an abrupt stop, his entire body jerked backwards, and he turned to look beyond her at the Hive below. “Cora...” he hissed out through elongating teeth, the long, hairy fingers of his half-changed hand coming up to grasp his chest as if his heart was at war with the rest of him. And perhaps it was. He doubled over as his transformation completed, and the large brindled wolf he became glared at the old Alpha before turning away, brushing past her to answer his mistress' call.

  
  


Narrowing her eyes, Granny hadn't even bothered to begin her change. She shook her head disdainfully as Hook passed her. “Some wolf,” she spat. “You're nothing but a lapdog.”

  
  


Hook snapped at her, but kept moving down the hill, towards the Hive. And, Granny realized with alarm, towards Ruby and Henry. With a shout of warning, she once more swept up her crossbow, nearly flying to the edge of the hill just in time to watch Hook barrel towards her granddaughter and the boy in her care. She raised her crossbow, loaded once more.

  
  


The bolt flew from its mooring just as a wall of flesh suddenly slammed into her from behind. Empty, the weapon went flying.

  
  


With a surprised grunt, Granny fell back, hitting the ground hard enough for the breath to leave her lungs. With blood-shot eyes, Anita pushed her mother into the dirt with all of her weight, her hands still bound in front of her. The effect of Cora's summons was powerful enough to override even the drugs in her system.

  
  


From below them on the hill sounded the shrill cry of a wolf in pain, and then the sound went silent. Granny's crossbow had once again found its mark.

  
  


Gasping, the old wolf fumbled for breath, her arms trying desperately to wrap around and contain the wild thrashings of her daughter. “Anita, stop!”

  
  


“Cora!” the younger wolf growled dangerously, single-minded and squirming and biting at anything in her path to her Queen. She gave a sudden gasp of pain, her chest literally yanking her forwards, lurching the rest of her above her mother's head, rolling towards the Hive.

  
  


Her progress, however driven, was slow, and when Granny grappled for her ankle and roughly tugged, it stopped altogether. Screeching in anger and no small amount of physical pain at moving further _away_ from her Queen, Anita kicked out as violently as she could. “Cora!” she hissed out again, wriggling like a hooked worm, doing anything and everything in her power to get down the hill.

  
  


With a desperate yank, Granny pulled her struggling body closer to her, wrapping her daughter in her arms as she had when she was small, refusing to let go. “Shh,” she whispered, giving no thought to the tears that fell down her face at seeing her daughter in such a state. “Shh, Anita. It'll be over soon.”

  
  


Wrestling in the bear-like embrace of her mother, the summons still thrummed through her, forcing any higher thought out of her mind. She continued to thrash wildly, but the tight hold that Granny had on her prevented any possibility of escape. “C-Cora...” She was whimpering now, the physical pain of being away from her Queen taking a violent toll on her drug-infused body.

  
  


“Stop.” A quiet voice sounded from the edge of the hill.

  
  


The heads of mother and daughter snapped up, as shocked as Ruby was when the boy clinging to her underside let go. Slowly, Henry crept forward, weak but steady, his eyes locked on the struggling mass in Granny's arms.

  
  


“Stop,” he said again, and this time his voice was louder, commanding. The voice of a Queen. “Look at me.” Anita's chin rose, her body so conditioned to obey, in so much turmoil for not answering the summons that it could physically no longer tell the difference between Queens.

  
  


“She's hurt you.” In the shade of the trees around them, the blood-covered eight-year old came to stand directly in front of Anita, bending down to her eye-level. “She hurt me, too.”

  
  


Behind her daughter, Granny cursed quietly, her heart aching for the boy. Ruby echoed the sentiment with a whine of her own, swiftly changing back to her human form.

  
  


Henry ignored the others for now, continuing to stare into Anita's eyes. “I know she's calling you. You feel like you need to answer. But you don't. You don't need to listen to her anymore. She can't hurt you. Not anymore.”

  
  


In her mother's arms, Anita's struggles became more like shudders, shaking as her mind battled to comprehend what was being said. Her brain was quite literally going to war with the rest of her.

  
  


“You're tired,” Henry noticed.

  
  


And she was. She was so tired. Utterly exhausted. The drugs were still pounding away in her system; enough tranquilizer to keep her asleep for hours, if she let it. She fell back against her mother's chest, whimpering like a small puppy, confused. And so, so tired.

  
  


The eight-year-old vampire Queen offered a tiny smile. “Go to sleep. You're warm. You're safe. It'll be okay. Just go to sleep, and everything will be okay.”

  
  


Slowly, Anita blinked her bloodshot eyes, the tremors reducing to slight shivers.

  
  


“Sleep,” Henry commanded, and her eyes closed, her body curled in on itself, resting her head on her mother's shoulder. Her breathing began to regulate, and the tranquilizers once again took possession of her body.

  
  


Shell-shocked and eyes wide, Granny looked from her slumbering daughter to the boy in front of her. “...How … how did you learn to do that, pup?” she whispered, as if afraid any jolt could snap Anita awake again.

  
  


Henry blinked, his own eyelids so very, very heavy. His knees began to give way, and Ruby stepped forward, catching him just as the last of her fur receded into her body. “Mommy...” he murmured, and whether it was an answer or just a cry for his mother, they didn't know.

  
  


Gingerly lifting her fully sedated daughter out of her arms and arranging her more comfortably on the ground, Granny glanced up, concerned, at her granddaughter. “What the hell happened to him?”

  
  


“I think he needs blood.” Still holding the boy against her, Ruby was already moving towards her bag, long forgotten beneath a tree, rummaging around in it. Her fingers finally fell on a the vinyl packet within, and she let out a relieved sigh. She and Granny had brought a few pouches themselves, of course, for Regina. Just in case. Granny liked to be prepared for anything. She sat down, nesting Henry in her arms, and opened the tubing, bringing it to his lips.

  
  


Thankfully, the exhausted little boy began to drink. The two wolves looked on, watching him with wide, impressed eyes when he finally sipped his fill and curled up next to Anita, falling into slumber.

  
  


 

* * *

 

  
  


  
  


In less than the blink of an eye, Cora was covering the distance between herself and her daughter's little pet, knife raised and fangs bared.

  
  


A shot rang out, filling the room with the high-pitched twang of metal on metal. Cora froze for a split second. The knife was no longer in her hand, the bullet that had ripped it from her sending it spinning wildly through the room until it tore through one of the machines still chugging away, sparks bursting from its impact.

  
  


Blinking, Cora stared down at her hand, a small trickle of blood welling between her fingers.

  
  


“Let me make this clear.” Emma leveled her gun, finger poised over the trigger as smoke wafted from the blood-caked barrel. “You will leave. Never come anywhere near Regina, Henry or Storybrooke ever again. Or my next shot will rip through your heart. If you have one.”

  
  


Cora's fist tightened, the blood halting to a stop as the graze healed over. Her eyes darkened, filling with rage and hatred and blood. “How cute,” she glanced at her daughter. “Your human thinks she has power.” This time, when she moved, there was no time at all to see her. She rushed at Emma, reaching her just as the blonde pulled the trigger, and with an inhuman screech, she slammed her hand against the blonde's arm, knocking the gun from her grip and sending her flying backwards. “I don't take ultimatums from humans,” she told her daughter.

  
  


Coughing from the impact, Emma rolled, getting to her feet quickly enough and glancing hurriedly around for her gun. Spotting it on the floor beneath a sparking machine, she sped towards it. But Cora came rushing at her, hands stretched out towards her chest. Ducking, Emma dove beneath her, avoiding the attempting thrust towards her heart with a parry of her arms, coming out rolling, facing Cora's side.

  
  


Unrelenting, the vampire Queen followed, lashing out with arms and legs and teeth bared, her hands again missing Emma's chest but coming to rest over her jacket. With a grunt, she pulled and then pushed, sending the blonde flying again, this time further into the room.

  
  


Emma came to a halt near Regina's table, grunting a bit as she rose from the impact.

  
  


Advancing once again, Cora shot an icy glare at her daughter. “Well!” she growled. “Your little pet seems a bit harder to kill than your last ones, Regina.”

  
  


At her mother's words, Regina gave a soft cry. The flesh of her wrists was scorched black and torn ragged, each impact against Emma causing Regina to lurch a little more, struggling through her weakness to get free.

  
  


“Regina!” Emma cried, wincing at the damage her Queen was doing to herself. “Don't move!” Getting to her feet once more, Emma growled. She stumbled towards Regina, fingers desperately prying open the buckle that held the silver stake to the table. And through Regina's wrist. Golden light sparked from her fingertips in minute fizzles of light.

  
  


She'd only partially succeeded in undoing the first stake when Cora rushed at her again, one hand grasping for her chest while the other aimed slightly higher. Deflecting the jab to her heart, Emma tried to pull away from the other hand. Cora swerved with her, her fingers finally catching a hold around the blonde's throat. Gagging, Emma kicked out at the Queen. Cora just grinned, evading the kicks and lifting the blonde until her feet could no longer touch the floor, hand clenching tightly around her windpipe.

  
  


“Emma!” Regina rasped, tensing against her bonds. The one wrist was now slightly looser than the other, but still staked through. She was unable to work herself free. Not at her current level of fatigue, anyway.

  
  


Smirking, Cora stepped towards her daughter, bringing the blonde up for her to see. “Are you watching, Regina? I'm going to kill your little human in front of you, dear. Again. Then, when she's dead and all that disgusting _love_ of yours has utterly been extinguished, I'm going to finish the dearly departed doctor's work and flip that switch one more time. And when all of that wonderful Sunwalker blood of yours has finally been ripped from your body and put in those conditioning jars, I'm going to drink every drop of you, my love. And then, finally, I. Will. Be. Perfect!” she screamed.

  
  


“Heh.” Even choking, Emma managed to spit out the words, causing Cora to flinch ever so slightly in shock and confusion. “So that's your endgame...” Emma lurched up, the sparks of gold building in her hands until, grunting, she clasped them tightly around Cora's wrist. Flesh immediately began to sizzle.

  
  


Shrieking, the older Queen let go, screaming as her skin bubbled and crisped under Emma's hands. “What the-?!” she bellowed, howling in rage and pain.

  
  


As soon as she was released, Emma took off. Not thinking too much about why or how she'd gotten free, Emma concentrated only on what she knew she had to do. “Sorry about this, Regina,” she muttered over her shoulder. Inwardly cursing at herself for doing this, she jumped, hands outstretched, and threw herself at the jars. Her hands hit them first, followed in short order by the rest of her. They shattered at the impact of her full weight, sending small geysers of red into the air before falling, like Emma, to the floor.

  
  


“No-o!” Crying out as Regina's blood dribbled out, Cora whooshed over. She knelt down, almost looking like she would bend over and lap up the blood. Smoke began to rise, the conditioning agents from the jar losing their cohesion, and Regina's blood shimmered once before falling uselessly dull. “No, no!” With a snarl, the older Queen turned her ruthless eyes onto Emma. “Damn you!” It was the first time she'd addressed the human directly.

  
  


“Sorry,” Emma grunted, her body protesting the stunt, but she smirked nevertheless, completely unapologetic. “Did I mess up your plans?”

  
  


If Cora had been fast before, it was nothing compared to when she was furious. Emma barely had time to react at all before the Queen was once again around her throat, pulling her to her feet. “Not the first of them,” Cora spat. “You still die, human.”

  
  


Emma gurgled out a gasp, kicking her feet out as her hands struggled up against the backs of Cora's wrists, trying to force a release again. The light still poured from her fingers, but the vampire's fury had dulled her to the shock and pain, and she did not let go. Her other hand rose to join the first around Emma's neck, throttling the blonde and shaking her even as her skin was scorched away.

  
  


Gagging, Emma flailed, moving her hands and pressing them to Cora's face instead. Screaming, Cora squeezed as tightly as her aching arm would allow, rewarded at last with a satisfying crunch. Emma gurgled. Her eyes opened wide, hands freezing in place. Her collarbone had been broken.

  
  


“Emma!” Regina gasped, helplessly watching, her flesh sizzling as she thrashed against the silver that held her down.

  
  


Fingers losing their purchase on Cora's face, Emma's breath choked off in a grotesque, wet sound. With a wheezing burble, her eyes rolled up into her head, her hands finally falling away with final arcs of gold sputtering through them. “Reh...g'naaah...”

  
  


Violently seizing against her restraints, Regina screeched with what breath she had left, tears streaming down her face. Her mother gave a derisive sniff, and then tossed the motionless blonde to the side like a ragdoll. “No! No, Emma!” Regina screamed and sobbed and swore, what remained of her voice dying off as she spasmed off the table, her wrists and ankles burned down to the bone from her thrashing.

  
  


Motionless, Emma was thrown behind the shattered remains of the blood collectors. She did not get up again.

 

* * *

 

  
  


“Emma!” Henry's eyes shot open, springing up into a sitting position as if he were possessed.

  
  


Startled, Ruby only barely managed to grab a hold of the boy before he tried to run off. “Whoa, there, kid!”

  
  


“Let me go!” he cried, pushing her arms off him. Tears were beginning to drip down his cheeks, and above them, his eyes were flickering with gold. “Emma needs help!” He struggled, resembling all the fury of Anita's desperation only shortly before.

  
  


Ruby held fast, Granny coming up beside her to keep the struggling boy contained. “Henry!” Ruby tried to shush. “Emma'd never forgive us if we let you go back in there. Neither would your mother.”

  
  


“I don't care!” Henry screamed, so agitated that his fangs were forced into prominence.

  
  


Granny's voice was so low it was practically a bark. “She would!”

  
  


Startled by the depth of sound, Henry froze, quieting a bit.

  
  


“It'll be okay, pup,” Granny continued, holding him in more of a hug than any form of restraint. In the same way that he had earlier calmed Anita, Granny's command was having a similar effect on him. “That's what you told my daughter, right?” She lightly brushed some of his hair away from his face. It stuck up, matted with dried blood. “Were you lying?”

  
  


Slowly, Henry shook his head. “...But Emma must be really hurt,” he whimpered. “I've never felt her like this before....” He turned in their arms, and burrowed tightly in the hugs from the two wolves.

  
  


“Trust your moms, kid,” Ruby said gently. “They love you more than anything in the world, right?”

  
  


Henry nodded.

  
  


“Then they'll be okay. They'll come back to you.”

  
  


“You promise?”

  
  


Ruby glanced over at her grandmother, and then down to her slumbering mother on the ground. “Yeah, kiddo,” she smiled. “I promise. Family always finds each other, right? Like when you went all the way to find Emma in the first place?”

  
  


Bravely trying to form his own smile, Henry just nodded again.

  
  


“It'll all be okay, Henry,” Ruby nuzzled him.

  
  


Beside her, Granny shot her a look, her eyes worried and dark. Ruby swallowed down the sudden dryness of her throat, and glanced nervously down at the Hive.

  
  


The sun had finally set.

  
  


 

* * *

 

  
  


“Emma!” Regina's tears burned vibrant paths down her cheeks. Her haggard voice tried to scream, but emitted no more than a heartbroken croak. “Get up, Emma!”

  
  


Paying her daughter no mind, Cora watched in disgust as her mutilated flesh still burned, the wounds stubbornly resisting her healing abilities. She grimaced in pain, shaking her hands as if trying to force the smoking holes to close over. When they didn't, she turned her burned face to look menacingly at her daughter. “Impressive,” she spat. “You didn't tell me your little pet was a witch.”

  
  


Tears streaking down her cheeks, Regina managed to shake her head, staring with disbelief at the machinery that hid Emma's broken, crumpled form. “...She's not.” Regina swallowed dryly, her mind whirling despite her pain.

  
  


No, Emma wasn't a witch. But Regina was.

  
  


Unseen by her mother, her eyes began to pinwheel in flashes of purple and violet, her bruised and weary body frantically calling on what little magic might remain to her. The sun was down, her body was exhausted. Even so, she wiggled what mobility she had in her fingers, pouring her magic past the machinery to a place she could not see, hoping against all hope that someway, somehow, it would be enough. It couldn't be. She knew that, deep down, but still her fingertips fizzled in small fireworks of purple. The fragments of magic she could call upon were too little and far too draining to attempt a healing of this nature. This was impossible even if she were at full power. Not on a mere human. Regina knew this, and yet she could not stop herself.

  
  


“No?” Cora was only half listening. Her flesh remained unhealed. “Then explain _this_ , Regina. No mere human could do this.”

  
  


Her mother was right, but Regina wasn't listening at all, her vision becoming hazy with the amount of magic she was pouring in Emma's direction. She was growing lightheaded, her body physically unable to control what power she was trying to channel through it. “Emma...”

  
  


Something moved, over where Emma had fallen. A flicker of gold. A small smile crossed over Regina's face, and she turned back to her mother with a spark of defiance. Flashes of gold and purple burned behind her eyes before growing dark, their light going out.

  
  


Slowly, methodically, Emma got up. She shook herself, rising from the floor with blood and magic pooled behind her. Wings of red and purple and gold.

  
  


Cora's mouth fell near to the floor. Dark eyes grew wide. “It's not possible!”

  
  


Depleted and utterly spent, Regina sagged against the wood of her table, her eyelids drooping dangerously shut. A contented smile graced her face, and she answered her mother's earlier demand in a tiny whisper. “...She's not human.”

  
  


With murder in her eyes, Emma stepped once over the mess of broken glass and blood on the floor. Her skin literally blazed with light, breaking through the caked blood and whatever else had dried on her. The viscera flaked away as Emma burned, bright as the sun.

  
  


Speechless, Cora backed away, truly frightened for the first time in years. Millennia, in fact.

  
  


Emma stalked towards her, climbing over whatever was in her way of getting to the older Queen. “You disgust me,” she screeched, her voice immense and terrifying as dawn itself. Cora tried to whoosh away, towards the door, but this time Emma was just as fast, gripping the woman by the shoulder and halting her progress.

  
  


Cora shrieked as Emma touched her, flesh once again melting away at the contact point, only this time much, much faster.

  
  


Emma's hand clenched harder, and she yanked the vampire towards her. Facing Regina. “Your daughter lies on that table, close to death. Where you put her.”

  
  


“I only ever thought of her.” Cora stammered out pathetically, screeching as skin and muscle literally burned down to the bone at Emma's touch. “Everything was for her!”

  
  


“You destroyed her life,” Emma boomed. “Every attempt at happiness she has ever made for herself.” Her hands flared with all the brightness of the sun as they wrapped around Cora's shoulders. “You killed her lovers. You kidnapped her son. _Our s_ on! You took him, knowing she'd come running.”

  
  


Gasping, Cora could only blink and stare wildly. “ _Your_ son?” she yelped. “... _What_ are you?!”

  
  


“You tortured my son!” Emma ignored her question, shaking the woman violently by the shoulders. Her hands crept up, circling Cora's neck just as she had done to her. Twice.

  
  


“And you. Tortured. My. Queen.”

  
  


Savagely, Emma's hands twisted in a furious burst of strength. There was a sickening crunch of bone. Cora's neck snapped like an over-dry twig. Her strength failed, knees crashing to the floor in a dull thud. The rest of her followed shortly thereafter, dark eyes still open; wide and shocked.

  
  


Looking down at herself for the first time since she'd gotten back up, Emma found her gun back in her holster. Without questioning it, she stepped directly over the fallen vampire. Cora's vertebrae were already beginning to re-align, the bones snapping back into place one right after the other. Pitiless, Emma stood over the fallen Queen, and pressed the barrel of her enchanted gun directly against Cora's chest.

  
  


With gasps that hissed and gurgled like over-boiled water, Cora's charred face stared back with eyes swollen and bloodied, one of them already gone dark. “What... are... you?” she wheezed.

  
  


Emma's eyes burned, and when they loomed over her, for a split-second Cora could have sworn she saw the image of a great bird, blazing in red and purple and the light of the sun. She let out a strangled, gurgling gasp, a jumble of sounds cobbling together a word in a language she nor anyone else had spoken in millennia. “ _...Po...ni...ke_?”

  
  


Emma blinked. The bird, if it had ever been there, was gone. “...I'm Regina's,” she shrugged, and pulled the trigger.

  
  


Cora fell to the ground in little more than a splattering puddle of red.

  
  


 

* * *

 

  
  


Henry's shuddering sobs had faded away, but he gave a sudden sigh of relief, pulling back to smile up into the wolves' concerned faces. “She's okay,” he sighed. “Emma's okay.”

  
  


“Yes!” Granny gave a great whoop, Ruby jumping up and fisting the air. “I told you she'd be alright!” Ruby beamed.

  
  


Smiling widely, Granny let out a small snort of laughter. “Now we just have to wait for them to come out,” the Alpha sighed.

  
  


“Yep,” Ruby smiled. “Do you think they'll take long?” she asked Henry.

  
  


He didn't answer.

  
  


“Henry, you okay, kiddo?” Ruby came up to him, playfully swatting his shoulder. Her face fell at his expression. “Henry?!”

  
  


The boy's face had gone frightfully white, his body still as a statue. “...Mom,” he whimpered.

  
  


 

* * *

 

“It's over.” The gun clattered to the floor, Emma dropping it as if it had suddenly burst into flames. But no, that was her. She looked own at her empty hands, still nearly glowing with golden light, though the brightness of it had faded somewhat and was dissipating even as she watched. Taking a deep breath, Emma glanced down at the puddle on the floor that had recently been Cora.

  
  


“...Fuck, Regina, what the hell was that?” she gasped, staring at the pool of blood and then down at herself as if her body was something completely alien to her.

  
  


There was no answer. Emma pulled her eyes away from herself, foreign as she was, and glanced over at her companion. “Regina?”

  
  


On the table, Storybrooke's Queen had gone as still as death itself.

  
  


“Regina?!” Emma was at her side in a moment, not even thinking about it. One moment she was standing over Cora's puddle, the next, she was at the side of her Queen. “No, no, no! Regina?! Regina, answer me, please!” She grabbed for her hand, reaching above the gaping hole in her wrist and feeling for a pulse. There wasn't one. “No...” she whispered again, her knees crumpling beneath her. She fell to the ground, her head resting on Regina's motionless chest. “No, please no!” Tears splashed down her cheeks, sinking into the tattered remains of a leather vest. “Please...”

  
  


Her sobs echoed around the chamber, loud enough that she almost missed the tiny, pained whisper. “Whenever you've finished, dear... would you mind unstaking me?”

 


	18. You Gotta Drink the Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Regina has a Bite, and the story draws to a close.

**Chapter XVIII: You Got to Drink the Blood**

 

**Outside**

 

The instant effect of Cora's death was not immediately noticed, as the attentions of the two conscious wolves had shifted suddenly and violently to Henry when the young vampire had screamed. Had their eyes been on Anita, Granny and Ruby would have taken note of the sudden looseness of limb, the weightlessness that seemed to seep into the tranquilized wolf even as she slept. Her shoulders dropped, her body sagging against the leaf-strewn surface of the ground. All the tension held in her body simply fell away. As if Cora's ownership of her was a skin of evil, shed in one fluid swoop at the moment of her death. The lines furrowing Anita's brow smoothed over, her face becoming calm and serene. The faintest of smiles slid onto her lips, and if she had been plagued by nightmares before in her drugged sleep, it was now obvious that her dreams, if any, were peaceful.

 

* * *

 

**Inside**

 

“ _Whenever you've finished, dear... would you mind unstaking me?”_

 

“Regina?!” Emma was off her Queen's chest in an instant, gasping out her name. The back of her hand swiped away at her tears, stemming them as she hurriedly looked Regina over.

 

A tiny hiss was the only response, but to Emma it sounded like the best music in the world.

 

With jerky, bumbling motions, Emma's fingers nearly flew to the buckles that held the stakes to the table, practically ripping them open in her haste and fury.

 

“Gently, if you don't mind,” Regina croaked, nearly soundless as her eyelids fluttered, fighting to keep them open.

 

“Sorry.” Though chastised, Emma was smiling, immeasurably relieved that Regina was alive enough to correct her. The buckle slid open, a ragged whimper of pain escaping cracked lips as Emma gingerly pried the stake out of Regina's wrist. The wound it had left sizzled and smoked, a gaping hole defying the smoothness of skin.

 

Wincing at the sight of the wound, Emma's fingers hesitated only a second or two before slipping the next buckle undone, the second wrist released as tenderly as was possible. Arms freed, Regina sagged against the wood of the table, a tiny whimper of deliverance as the silver left her skin.

 

After the stakes through the ankles had been similarly removed, one by one, Emma began tugging out needle and tube alike, dropping each and every horrid implement to the floor as if they physically burned her, until at last Regina was completely free. Regina gave a rough sigh as the last needle fell, slumped against the table, and Emma chanced a longer look at the wounds. She had to fight down the bile that immediately rose in her throat. To her horror, the scorched, gaping mires in wrists and ankles remained stubbornly open, glaring at her, completely dry. Regina was so drained that she could not heal.

 

Her Queen needed blood. Lots of it, likely. And the canisters that had contained what was drained out of Regina had been shattered and dissipated into nothingness on the floor. There was no other source in the room.

 

Well. Almost.

 

Green eyes darted around the chamber. Sharp edges abounded- shards of glass and bits of twisted metal, but she was leery of them all. Who knew if any of them might be dripping in whatever chemical had drawn Regina's blood from her in the first place? Her gaze fell to the floor, eyes catching on a glint near her calf. One of her boot knives was still in place. Scrambling, she lurched for it, picking it up like it was the solution to all her problems.

 

A grunt of worry sounded from behind her. “W-what are you doing..?” Regina croaked, pale and lethargic against her table. _Don't leave me,_ went unsaid.

 

“You need blood,” Emma muttered, testing the edge with the flat of her thumb. A line of bright red crossed her fingerprint.

 

Regina's nostrils flared, head turning imperceptibly toward the scent. She watched as a drop pooled at the end of Emma's thumb, suspended for a heartbeat before splashing onto the table. Her eyes widened, hungry pupils dilating at the sight of it. “You're ...offering?” Her voice, broken as it was, sounded horrified.

 

Emma herself was a little hesitant. What if whatever... powers... she had been displaying would somehow hurt Regina through her blood? She mollified herself with the reminder that Henry had drank her blood after his poisoning, and been just fine. With that in mind, Emma slipped closer to her Queen, settling beside her on the table and holding her hands over Regina's face. “You have a better idea?” She brought the knife to her wrist, preparing herself.

 

“Don't!”

 

It was the volume that distracted her, more surprised that Regina could even muster the strength to shout at her than the cry itself. She looked down to the face of her Queen, rolling her eyes. She sighed, “Regina, if this is more of that 'sullying myself with the likes of you' crap you spouted at me when we first met, you can save it. You need blood, and I-” the look in dark eyes was enough to draw the rest of her words away from her. The vampire looked terrified.

 

Tears built up in her eyes, Regina stared up at the wrist poised over her head. At the knife ready to break skin. At the line of blood that dripped from Emma's thumb. She wet her lips, but shook her head as frantically as she could manage. “Don't,” she said again. “Please... don't.”

 

“Why?” The question burned in Emma's eyes. “You'll die if I don't...”

 

Regina's head drooped, exhausted and weakened to the point that her walls had completely broken. “Been too long,” she gasped, her words coming out in rapid, choked breaths. Her fangs were extended, so feeble she was unable even to control their retraction anymore. “I n-need too much. Won't stop...” Tears dripped away from her with moisture her body couldn't afford to lose. Her cheeks drew tighter against her skull a little further with every drop. “...I'll never stop.

 

Above her, Emma's face softened. Regina was worried about hurting her. “You will.” A thumb reached out, lightly brushing away tears.

 

“Don't. Please, don't.” Her voice was harder now. Commanding.

 

Emma felt the Claim burning between them, filling her mind with a buzzing unlike anything else. It rattled her mind, forcing her to obey. “No...” Her grip on the knife faltered, fingers failing as the order of her Queen resounded through her. “Regina, no!” she gasped, feeling her muscles freeze in on themselves. Preventing her. “Damnit, let me save you,” she hissed. “How the hell would I explain to Henry if I just let you die now?!”

 

She felt Regina shudder beneath her. Her eyes blinked, the abject horror and command falling away for half a second.

 

Henry. As if his name held sway over her, Emma's mind clamped down on his face, his tone as he argued with her in the Hive.“ _...I Claimed you, so I can order you to save her. You have to!”_ Emma gasped, reeling as his recalled order battled with Regina's. The two voiced reverberated in her skull like dueling metronomes, repeating over and over, faster and faster. Her head felt like it was splitting in two, at war with herself.

 

Just when she felt she would go insane, a burning, golden light burst behind her eyes. In a moment of clarity, she broke through the din with a revelation: Henry had made the original Claim. Regina was only included as a technicality. Clinging to that argument, through strength of will alone Emma forced herself to clench her hand into a fist around the blade. Her fingers trembled as she stared down at Regina, her skin beginning to tingle. She could physically feel it, this time, as her eyes burned with gold, boring down into the wan, alarmed face of her Queen. Emma smiled tenderly. Her grip on the knife steadied, stronger than ever.

 

“Don't.” Regina's tone was quieter than ever now. Tired. The last, frightened cry of a child wary of her nightmares. “...I'll kill you.”

 

Emma smiled, her face shining with light. The knife bit deep into willing flesh. “I trust you.”

 

Blood welled. Hot and thick and dark.

 

It poured out of Emma's wrist, flowing not slow or sluggishly but all at once, down towards Regina's lips. Dark eyes flashed. Nostrils again flared, drinking in the scent. With the last of her strength Regina lunged forward on her most base of instincts, eager to catch the first of the large drops that splashed into her open mouth. Grunting in carnivorous need she surged up, dry wounds gaping as she forced her hands to close around Emma's arm, bringing the wrist with its restoring lifeblood to her lips.

 

A ragged scream burst from Emma as extended fangs probed into the cut and plunged deep. The knife slipped uselessly from her fingers, clattering to the floor. But all Emma could hear was the pounding in her veins, the grunts of pleasure as her blood fell away into her Queen. Her vision swam, her free hand coming to curl over Regina's shoulder, grounding herself as everything else fell away, and the blackness of Regina's eyes swallowed her whole.

 

…

 

The first splash of hot, metallic blood caressed her tongue, and Regina moaned.

 

She'd nearly convinced herself she'd forgotten what this felt like; a live victim beneath her fangs and blood hot beneath her tongue. It had been centuries since she'd last tasted from the source, but it felt like coming home. Her veins were screaming for more; her entire body instantly poised like a serpent at the overwhelming _need_ for blood. It built up inside her like a tangible pressure, and she was only cursorily aware of her hands reaching for the bleeding wrist. All she felt was the blood beneath her lips, the feel of flesh under her fangs as she bit into the open cut. A flood from the punctured vein poured into her hungry mouth, perfect and fresh and _hot_. So deliciously hot. Emma's blood was hotter than any she'd ever tasted. Like drinking in the sun itself. It almost scalded her tongue, but the heat was as addictive as the taste and the feel and the sheer _life_ she was drinking in. Regina could feel it pulse in her empty veins, and she knew she would never get enough- could never possibly have enough of Emma Swan. She felt herself moan again, louder, at the ecstasy of it, and bit deeper to dig in for more.

 

**…**

 

When Emma could think again, in flashes and spurts of cognizance, she would consider that if she had expected this to feel anything at all like when Henry had drank from her, she was very wrong.

 

This was so, so much better.

 

Regina surrounded her, in every pore and every cell, utterly overwhelming her senses. She could actually feel her blood pumping through Regina's hungry veins, could almost taste the vampire's lips as they touched her skin. Regina's hands never left her arm, and yet she could feel them ghosting over every inch of her body- caressing, massaging. Arousing. Lips and teeth and tongue moved over her skin, kissing and licking and sucking. Heat built itself low in Emma's belly, spreading through her body like wildfire until she was gasping and arcing her back on the table. Every good and glorious feeling Emma had ever experienced seemed to be going on at once, and her head tipped back, her eyes closing in a haze of euphoric, unimaginable pleasure. She moaned. Her grip on Regina's shoulder loosened.

 

Wrapped in a bubble of liquid desire, it was all she could do to remember to breathe. Though she could feel her blood pulse inside Regina, she couldn't get close enough. She swiveled, closing the what little space remained. Her legs began to tremble beneath her, struggling to support her weight. Regina's arms curled around her middle, holding her tight enough to feel her heartbeat as it shared between them.   
  
Though her entire body felt flushed with heat, a sudden gush of fire powered its way through her. Her back arched, like a strung bow. She felt her limbs lock, stiffening, centered around her core. The embrace kept her only barely grounded, and the rest of the world simply fell away into nothingness. Regina was the only thing in her world right now, and her world was made of sensation- heady and intense and wonderful. Heat and blood blazed between them as it was shared, their voices matching one another moan for moan.

 

After what could have been years in her daze of euphoria, Emma gradually became aware of the sensation lessening. Exhaustion began to grow along the edges of her bones. She was suffocating- her lips parted and took in huge, gasping gulps of air. Her eyes opened, but everything looked fuzzy and dark. Her senses all seemed to pale, growing dim like an aged photograph, brittle and yellowed around the edges until they dissipated completely. Whatever had kept Emma grounded fell away, and beneath her, Regina's moans darkened into savage grunt of need- animalistic and utterly chilling.

 

For the first time in the feeding, it actually began to hurt. All too reminiscent of a night a long time ago, when Henry had been born and then ripped from her. A wrenching, blinding and ice cold pain built up from her wrist and pulsed through her body like a shockwave, spiraling until all she felt was pain and cold. She was freezing now, colder than she'd ever felt. And then that, too, began to dissipate, and she was falling into darkness.

 

* * *

 

  
_Falling._

 

_Falling._

 

_No._

 

_Flying!_

 

_Flying soaring under wings. Wings! Finally wings again and no longer fleshy flightless arms and flying yes yes good so good forgot how good! Soaring, swooping high so high higher than anything ever. Far above any Queen- a Goddess bowing to none and ruling the sky and circling into the sun! Sun! Sun is bright and warm and welcoming. Warmth over body after long, so long sighing yes yes yes. Cry out just because warm and safety and love and everything ever good ever! Joy and warmth and light and all things good yes so good. At last flying back into the Sun!_

 

_And._

 

_Regina._

 

_All things good are Regina and Regina is good, so good and so warm and sun is wrapping around Regina and there is no end to Regina and there is no end to the sun and there is no end at all. Regina glows in the sun and Regina is the sun and Regina is pulling back looking and reaching. Wings become arms again- outstretched, reaching, grasping. Queen, my Queen reaching and catching and held and safe and warm. Wrapping around and around and around and sinking and never ever falling ever again! Caught and secure and safe and warm and loved. Yes!_

 

Loved!

 

* * *

 

 

“Emma!”

 

She came back to the world slowly, in tired, weary blinks of her eyes. She was surprised to discover that she was crying. Regina had pulled away from her wrist, traces of Emma's blood and even some of her tears still flecked on her lips. She was looking at her with wide, afraid eyes, unblemished hands gently cupping Emma's cheeks.

 

They were facing one another now.

 

At some point during the feeding, without even being aware of it, Emma had swung her body around to straddle Regina's hips, and now she lay astride the Queen, nearly sinking into her. Neither seemed in too much of a hurry to correct that now.

 

Emma actually leaned into it a little more, pressing their foreheads together and taking slow, carefully measured breaths. She gave a tired, faint little sigh. A smile twitched at her lips. “See?” She only slurred a little. “I'm okay.”

 

With a shake of her head, Regina gave a pacified sigh, her own tears slipping from her eyes as her head drooped back against the table. “...Idiot.” Her hands were warm as they lightly ran up and down Emma's cheeks, then around to smooth over her hair and down to her shoulders. Her eyes were still confused, but her emotions were affectionate and warm, thrumming with Emma's blood that now pumped through her. “I could have killed you.” She frowned. “I  _ should  _ have killed you .”

 

“Don't sound so disappointed that you didn't.” Emma cracked a smile. Regina's concern should have been surprising, but Emma found it completely natural. The most natural thing in the world. Regina cared for her. She could feel it, pulsing through her blood, though the sensation was dim now, almost like an echo.

 

A puff of air hit her upper lip as Regina huffed in indignation, still shaking her head. “Emma...” she breathed, gripping her shoulders tightly.

 

Emma ran her own fingers lightly down Regina's cheek, wiping a few stray flecks of blood from her lips. “It's okay.” She leaned into Regina's hands on her skin, enjoying the feel of her touch. Enjoying the fact that Regina _could_ touch her. “ _I'm_ okay. In fact...” her gaze dropped as the tip of the queen's tongue emerged to lick over a corner of her own mouth. “...I'm better than okay.”

 

Regina wet her lips, her mouth apparently having gone dry. Strange, considering how much blood had been within it mere moments before. Beneath her fingers, she felt Emma's body practically thrum with vitality and warmth. She watched Emma's eyes move to her lips, mere inches away. Her fingers curled around Emma's arms, pulling herself even closer to the ever-present warmth that clung to the blonde. She shook her head again, just a little. “Idiot,” she repeated, and the remaining distance between them disappeared.

 

As if in slow motion, their lips brushed together in soft, gentle strokes, tentative and uncertain for the space of a few heartbeats. No taste of blood remained on Regina's lips, and so when Emma gave a quiet little groan and pressed herself closer still, she tasted only Regina. Her lips parted, exhaling softly. The tip of her tongue began to lightly toy with Regina's lower lip. Her Queen's fangs were safely tucked away, and when Regina opened her lips to invite her in, Emma eagerly accepted.

 

How long they spent gently exploring one another with lips and tongues, Emma had no idea. But it was every bit as overwhelming an experience as being bitten. She felt Regina's hands sliding down her arms to curl around her waist, felt her own fingers slipping through Regina's hair, pressing their bodies as closely together as they could as she kissed her Queen.

 

Finally, they broke apart, Emma's chest heaving a bit as they lay tangled together, looking into one another's eyes. “Regina...” she whispered, leaning forward to claim her lips again.

 

Regina allowed it, melting into the embrace of lips again before pulling away with a soft moan of regret. “Emma...” Dark hairs brushed against Emma's shoulders as Regina shifted her head, her hands running lightly up and down the blonde's shoulders. “Much as I'd like to remain here, perhaps you should get off me. We have a son to reunite with.”

 

Grinning widely at the admission, Emma leaned forward again to lightly peck against Regina's lips. The vampire allowed the kiss, and then Emma (regretfully) pulled herself away. “Is that an order, my Queen?” she smirked.

 

Regina lightly ran her fingers down Emma's cheek, pausing to look curiously at the dried tears that still remained there. She swallowed over the sudden dryness of her throat. “...I don't think I can give you many more orders, Emma.” With another smile, Regina leaned back in to shut any further protests up in the only way she knew how.

 

* * *

 

 

Henry sensed them coming only seconds before the wolves smelled it, and began to barrel his way down towards them as soon as the tell-tale purple smoke began to swirl mid-way up the hill leading to the Hive.

 

Emma's voice resounded throughout the space as soon as her lips had formed,“Really, Regina? You couldn't just poof us directly to the top?”

 

“I can't just 'poof' as I like it, Miss Swan,” Regina huffed, affection in her voice. “Not knowing where people are standing, I have to make a choice that I think will result in the least amount of possible injury for everyone.”

 

Any further rebuttal from Emma was thrown asunder when Henry came down the hill, barreling into them at whooshing speed. “Moms!”

 

Knocked backwards, the two women quickly left off their bickering and contented themselves in the arms of their son, hands looping behind his back as they held him.

 

“Oof!” Emma grunted at the impact, reaching down to ruffle his hair affectionately. “Speaking of possible injury,” she grinned. “Easy, there, kid. Your mom's still kinda delicate.”

 

“Henry.” Regina completely ignored Emma's words, her attention wholly on her son. She stroked his face, brushing off a bit of dried dirt or gore from his cheek. She held him to her chest, lifting him off the ground and hugging him tight, while Emma supported him from the back. “Oh, my sweet, brave boy.” She kissed his cheeks over and over and over and never ever wanted to let him go.

 

Henry's arms curled around her neck. “I thought I'd lost you,” he sniffed, burying his head into Regina's shoulder. “I thought she'd killed you.”

 

“Never,” Regina promised, kissing his hair, his nose. Breathing in the scent of him to coat her lungs, not caring about whatever he was covered in. “You'll never lose me again, Henry. I promise.”

 

Nuzzling his head into her neck, Henry drew back, his eyes bright and proud. “But I knew when you were okay. I could feel it. And I know it's 'cause Emma saved you, right?” Henry's arms moved from around Regina's arms to Emma, shifting his weight to rest more on his blonde mother.

 

It was Emma's turn to hug him to her, and though she ruffled his hair affectionately, she refrained from covering him with kisses, just placing one on his cheek. “That's right, kid,” she affirmed at Regina's silence, glancing over at her. “Just like you told me to.”

 

Regina allowed herself to look away from her son, curious, over at the woman who held him with her. “...Is that how you were able to break my command?” She glanced back to her son. “You ordered her to save me?”

 

Not understanding why his mother was making it sound like a bad thing, Henry just blinked up at her, confused. “I didn't want them to hurt you, and I knew she was going to kill you.” A shiver ran down his frame at the mere memory of Cora, and his next words were only a whisper. “I wanted you to be okay. Was that wrong?”

 

Regina's look immediately softened. She shifted her weight with a glance to Emma, who nodded, understanding, and stepped back so that Henry was completely in Regina's arms, though her hand remained resting lightly on his back. “Oh, Henry,” she sighed, shaking her head and pressing another kiss to his forehead. “Of course not. But your order put Emma in danger, too.”

 

“I know.” He hung his head. “And I was really worried about Emma,too,” he reached for his birth mother's hand and squeezed it. “But Ruby and Granny told me you'd both be okay.” Regina began to carry him up the hill, Emma close by her side. “And I got to help when Ruby's mom was trying to go crazy.”

 

Emma's head snapped up at that. “Ruby's _what?_ ” Her gaze left Henry and shot up to where the two wolves still stood at the top of the hill, focusing on the prone figure who lay between them.

 

“Ruby's mom,” Henry repeated, gesturing to her as they crested the hill. “She was trying to get back to Cora, but I told her that even though Cora was making her think she wanted to get back to her, she really didn't. And then she went back to sleep.”

 

Regina raised an eyebrow at this, looking over at Granny for confirmation.

 

The older wolf just shrugged. “He's a very persuasive little Queen, your son.”

 

Henry just beamed, happy to have been able to be of some help while his moms were busy fighting to get back to him.

 

“Perhaps,” Regina said simply, eyes darting from the sleeping form on the forest floor to her son in her arms.

 

Granny knelt down beside her daughter, brushing a bit of hair out of her face. Anita's expression remained carefree and peaceful in slumber. While she was relieved to see it, Granny nevertheless glanced, questioningly, up at Regina. “Will she be alright?”

 

Brown eyes once more returned to Henry in her arms. He clung to her a little more tightly, not quite wanting to let her go just yet. Still afraid of losing her. She smiled at him tenderly. “I have to set you down now, Henry.”

 

He shook his head, burying his face in her neck once more.

 

With a soft sigh, Regina hugged him a little tighter, before looking to Emma beside her. “Would you mind if Emma held you instead?”

 

Pausing in his tight hold of Regina, as if considering that Emma was an acceptable substitute, Henry pressed a kiss to Regina's cheek, and then switched his hold to around Emma's neck as Regina transferred him over. Henry snuggled into her, and Regina just watched the two of them together with a small little smile for a moment. And then she was the Queen of Storybrooke once more, completely business, as she knelt down to inspect the slumbering wolf.

 

She pressed a hand to Anita's forehead and the wolf's brow instantly crinkled, as if objecting to the presence of a Queen even in her sleep. Regina's fingers began to glow purple, ever so slightly. After a moment, she seemed to shake herself, and lifted her hand. Anita's face once more relaxed.

 

Regina looked to Granny. “It's hard to predict how she'll react when she wakes: my mother's hold on her was especially strong. I don't even know if it was placed completely unwillingly or not. Certainly, there was a fair amount of coercion involved.” The Queen looked down at Anita again, teeth idly nibbling at her upper lip as she considered her. “I think, given time, she'll recover from the link, but the road will likely be difficult.”

 

Still hugging Henry gently in her arms and rubbing small circles over his back, Emma stepped up beside her Queen, eying Anita warily. Like she would a target. “Is it safe to bring her back to Storybrooke?”

 

Regina hesitated. After everything that had happened, the last thing they needed was a potentially rogue wolf running about.

 

During the silence, Granny bristled at the implication, a growl building in her throat. “Well we're not leaving her here!”

 

Raising a steadying hand, Regina silenced her with a look. “Likely, whatever damage she attempts will more be toward herself than anyone else.” She leveled a glare at Granny. “But she'll be your responsibility, Eugenia. Any problems and I will consider her a threat to the safety of my town.”

 

Ruby growled a bit at that herself, but Granny placed a steadying hand on her shoulder, and nodded. “Understood.”

 

Nodding in return, Regina's expression softened a bit. “I'll help you however I can. I can understand your desire to want your family back together.” She looked at the wolves with affection before turning back to her son. And Emma. The blonde smiled at her, and Regina felt a ray of warmth pulse through her. Reaching a hand for her son, she lightly ran his fingers down his cheek.

 

“Let's go home.”

 

Nodding, Granny and Ruby moved back to their provisions, readying themselves for the trip back. Ruby bent down for the stretcher her mother was on, preparing to grasp for its handles, when she saw something that made her pause. She smiled, inwardly cheering to herself. “I knew it,” she whispered to no one, and bent to continue her task, all the while smiling.

 

Regina and Emma were holding hands.

 

* * *

 

 

Regina had been oddly silent for most of the trip back, as if something was weighing heavily on her mind. As soon as they were safely inside the walls, Regina turned to Graham. Even before he could welcome them back officially, she spat out an order. “Summon Maleficent. Tell her meet me at the manor.” Giving a soft whine of confusion, the young wolf nevertheless turned to do as he was bid.

 

They made their way to Regina's home a bit slowly, their progress halted by the dozens of well-wishers who began to accumulate in the streets as word of their return spread. Storybrooke was, after all, a very small town.

 

In Emma's arms, Henry lay quietly asleep, his small body having run out of energy on the trip back. It had been an incredibly exhausting last few days for him. Regina had offered to carry him a while, of course, but Emma had just looked at her, pleading without words. Regina let him remain there. Though she would never admit it, she was still a bit exhausted herself. Henry finally began to stir when they turned onto Miflin Street, as if the familiarity of home jogged something deep in his psyche. Eyes blinking open, he broke into a wide grin as his home came into view.

 

The next moment had the boy clambering down from Emma's arms and darting across the front lawn. Emma and Regina lingered a moment, conveying their thanks and fondness to Ruby and Granny as the wolves prepared to head to the Bed and Breakfast and situate their still-slumbering guest.

 

When he realized their little group was parting ways, Henry immediately rushed back, wrapping his arms tightly around Ruby's legs. “Thank you for coming to get me,” he told her quietly.

 

“No problem, kiddo.” She nudged his shoulder. “Thanks for your help with my mom.”

 

He beamed at her tiredly, and then nodded politely to Granny.

 

The alpha wolf gruffed. “What, I don't get a hug? C'mere, pup.”

 

Grinning, he wrapped his arms around her, too.

 

“Alright, that's enough,” she huffed after a moment, but reached down to affectionately pat his matted hair. “I think you have a date with a bathtub.”

 

For once, Henry didn't wrinkle his nose at the idea. Instead, he gave a solemn nod of his head, eager to be rid of the layers of dirt and grime and dried blood that clung to him.

 

“Henry?” From inside the gate of her walkway, now, Regina slipped to her knees, beckoning her son. Nearby, Emma finally stripped herself of her jacket, draping it almost affectionately over the hood of her precious Beetle. She had a feeling she'd never be able to wear the thing again.

 

The boy came over with a curious look, but still burrowed into Regina's arms, throwing his own tightly around her waist. “Mom...”

 

“Henry,” she sighed, rocking him back and forth as she had when he was an infant.

 

“Well, isn't this touching.” A puff of dark violet smoke and Maleficent was standing before them, a hand on her crystal ball, looking bored. She swiveled her head towards Regina. “Welcome back, your majesty. Now what did you bring me here for?”

 

Lightly running her fingers through her son's hair, Regina hardly even looked up at her, instead simply stating, matter-of-factly: “Henry is relinquishing his Claim.”

 

Startled sounds of protest erupted from all around. Emma's head shot up from beside her car, her brow crossed and eyes suspicious.

 

The boy himself lurched back, staring at his mother with hurt and betrayal in his eyes. “I'm what?!”

 

Regina eyed him knowingly, her tone gentle, but still very much using her 'mom voice.' “No eight-year-old should have a Claim on anyone, Henry,” she told him flatly. “Especially not on your mother.”

 

There was a moment of silence. Entering in through the gate, Emma's hand came to rest lightly on Regina's shoulder. Regina looked at her, communicating without words. Sighing, the former Hunter nodded her head and lowered to her knees, coming down to eye-level with her bewildered son. “Your mom's right, kid. And honestly, you being able to give me orders kinda messes up the whole parent-kid dynamic.”

 

Henry looked back and forth between his two mothers, as if not believing that they could be agreeing about this. “...But if Emma isn't Claimed, anyone could drink from her! She could get hurt!”

 

Smiling gently at him, Regina cast an appraising, sidelong glance over Emma. “If the past few days have taught me anything, dear, it's that she can take care of herself.”

 

“...But she could leave Storybrooke!” Henry's chin wobbled.

 

Wrapping her arms around him, Emma kissed his forehead tenderly. “I'm not going anywhere, Henry.” Her fingers brushed against Regina's. She glanced up, locking eyes with the Queen. “My family's here.”

 

“Do you mind?” Maleficent griped, “I think I may actually gag.”

 

Regina glared at her.

 

Rolling her eyes, the curly-haired witch called forth the Claim in question with a wave of her hand. Henry's signature glowed in bright blue on the parchment. “Well, Henry?” Maleficent prompted.

 

With tears brimming in his eyes, Henry put on a brave smile, and glanced over at Maleficent. “...I relinquish my Claim,” he said, his voice only wavered a little.

 

Giving him an approving squeeze, Emma nodded, “So do I.”

 

The paper in Maleficent's hand immolated, the lines of their signatures bursting into flame until the contract became ash. “Touching,” Maleficent snarked again, rubbing her fingers to rid them of the last of the smudge. “If you're done being so nauseatingly sentimental, may I go now?”

 

“You're dismissed,” called Regina crisply. Her eyes narrowed. “Though tomorrow I expect a full report on what you did to my town while I was gone.”

 

Giving a mocking bow, Maleficent nodded. “Whatever you say, your Majesty. So glad to have been of use.” She disappeared in a whirl of smoke.

 

Regina's hands fell gently over Henry's shoulders, hugging him tenderly. “I'm proud of you, Henry.” she kissed his cheek. “That was very grown-up of you.”

 

“So... when I'm grown up, can I Claim Emma again?”

 

Emma shot a glance at Regina. “...I don't think so, kid,” she said as gently as she could. “I might already be taken.”

 

Smiling at her softly, Regina tried to ignore the fact that her cheeks were flushing. “Indeed,” she murmured. “Besides, Henry: you might find someone else you'll want to Claim more.”

 

“Like who?”

 

“Like...” Emma grinned, “a girlfriend!”

 

Henry rolled his eyes in typical eight-year-old fashion. “Eww!” he exclaimed. “Now I _really_ need a bath!”

 

* * *

 

Later, much later, when they'd all bathed and Henry had lost since passed out in his bed, Emma found herself, yet again, unable to sleep.

 

She checked on her son out of habit, watching him as he rested in what looked to be blissfully dreamless sleep. He'd been through a lot in the last few days. More than any any kid should ever have to endure. Hell, more than any _adult_ should have to live through. She knew that some of the days ahead would likely be hard for him as he came to terms with everything. But for now, at least, he rested sweetly and contentedly, safe in his own bed in his own house, surrounded by those who loved him.

 

It was all she'd ever wanted for him, back when she'd been pregnant and unbitten and had dreamed of a future without vamps for him to live in. She could almost laugh at that now. Maybe it wasn't exactly the life she'd pictured for him, but she could honestly say now, that she was okay with how it had worked out. She eyed the door to Regina's empty room. More than okay, really.

 

As quietly as possible, she crept back out of his room and then headed down the stairs. The front door was open.

 

Regina sat on the steps of the entryway, gazing out over the hedgerows at the sky just before dawn. An open, completely full packet of blood lay next to her, a few mouth-fulls of it spattered out on the grass just beyond her.

 

Immediately feeling worry begin to pump through her, Emma slipped onto the porch. “Something wrong?”

 

Her Queen didn't even look at her. “...I'm not hungry,” she said stiffly.

 

Emma didn't even have to use her superpower. “You're lying. Why aren't you drinking?”

 

Looking down at the tubing in her hands, Regina was silent for a long moment. Then, with crisp, decisive movements, she tipped the entire bag over into the grass. She waited until every drop had left before she spoke again. “I told you,” she stated quietly. “...It's been too long since I drank from the source.”

 

Emma's brow furrowed in confusion, before her eyes opened almost comically wide. “...You can't drink it anymore,” she realized breathlessly. “Oh!” She cast her mind back to just before Regina had bitten her. “You said... you said you'd never stop. That's what you meant.” She swallowed over the sudden dryness of her throat. “...You have to keep drinking from me.”

 

“You're not Claimed anymore, dear.” Regina reminded her. She still wouldn't look at her, watching the small pool of blood seep away into the ground. “I don't have the right.”

 

Slowly, warm fingers made their way across the space between them to curl around Regina's shoulder. She turned her head, finally chancing a look at the blonde.

 

Earnestly, Emma offered a smile. “...You don't need a piece of magical paper to be my Queen, Regina.”

 

It was Regina's turn to swallow, thickly and visibly in the thin haze of lightening sky. She turned away, letting silence fill the space between them. Her eyes cast back up towards the dawn. “You know,” she began after a while, “you were named after entirely the wrong bird, Miss Swan.”

 

Emma kept her hand on her shoulder, sidling closer until her legs hung over the edge of the porch. “I thought we were past you calling me that.”

 

Regina's lips quirked upward. “I was only making a point.” She took a breath. “Emma.”

 

“Better.”

 

They fell into silence, both turned to watch as the darkened sky slowly began to give way to hues of pink and gold.

 

Emma sighed. She wasn't entirely sure she wanted to have this conversation, but knew that if they didn't, it would hang between them as awkward and unwieldy as any Claim. Her neck craned up, staring off into the sky. “You told your mother that I wasn't human.” It was not a question. A quiet declaration of a fact they had both been made painfully aware of.

 

Another pause.

 

“You're not. At least not fully.”

 

The sun was only barely peeking, its rays still having far to go before they would touch the mayoral mansion. Still, somehow, the light found Emma, pooling over her hair and skin, seeping into her like the embrace of an old friend. “When did you know?” she asked. “...How did you know?”

 

“I... suspected when you broke through the dampening field,” Regina replied quietly. “And... then when I saw it in that torture chamber... You died, Emma. You died and then you resurrected yourself. And... well, honestly, it explained a few things.”

 

Emma looked back at Regina, genuinely curious. “What kinds of things?” She decided to put aside the issue of her death (or deaths? She really wasn't sure how many times she'd died in the Hive) to the side for now.

 

“Why you always eat like you've never seen food before. Why you have such a hard time falling asleep when the sun is up...” She faced her, keeping her voice quiet and understated, as if only reciting things off a grocery list. “And why Henry was so quickly restored to health after he was poisoned.”

 

Confused, Emma's face scrunched. “...Because he drank from me. Same reason it made you all better, too. You just needed blood.”

 

“Yes, the Queen nodded, “I did. But it wasn't just your blood, dear. You were crying on him.” She offered a smile. “On us.”

 

“...So?”

 

Regina reached a hand forward to ghost it lightly over Emma's cheek, nearly glowing in the early light. “Your tears have healing properties, Emma.”

 

Looking down, Emma kicked her feet out, swinging them back against the porch landing like a child. She chewed her lip and took a moment to digest this information. “...What else can I do?”

 

“Apart from dying at least four times in one day and resurrecting yourself in a burning pyre of sunlight?” Regina was almost chuckling. “What else would you like?”

 

Silence.

 

After a long moment, Regina finally turned to look at her. “Does this change-” she began, but Emma shook her head, raising her fingers lightly to brush over the lips of her queen.

 

“I'm _yours,_ Regina,” she smiled. Her eyes spun with flecks of gold for a half-second before burning back to their usual color. She clasped Regina's hand with her own, the fingers of her other hand still at her lips, moving down to curl around her cheek. “I'm yours, Claim or no Claim, and damn anything else. That's all that matters to me.”

 

Despite herself, Regina felt the edges of her lips curl upwards. Her hands curled around Emma's, holding onto her with rising intensity. “...Mine.” Even though the light was getting more and more intense over them as the sun rose, Regina's eyes only grew darker. The barest hint of her fangs became visible in the glow of the early dawn. “I like the sound of that.” Slowly, she leaned in closer, inhaling the scent of her human. Her phoenix. Her Emma. She tested the way it sounded on her own lips. “My Emma.”

 

Her name was barely breathed, but even hearing it from Regina's lips was enough to give the blonde heart palpitations. Her breathing quickened, watching as Regina's pupils blew wide and all-consuming. She felt the same warmth as when she was bitten begin to well in the pit of her stomach. Her blood began to pulse rapidly in her veins, and she had to wonder if Regina could hear it. If she could smell it, or taste it, hot and rushing up at her skin, ready for the drinking. She groaned unconsciously, lips parting as the scent of apples and spice and _Regina_ completely overwhelmed her senses. “My Queen?”

 

“Emma.” She felt Regina's fingertips on her shoulder, her nails trailing a slow path up her skin and sending shivers down her spine. “Tilt your head.”

 

A shiver running down her spine, Emma blinked, slowly, counting the beats of her own heart and taking deep, shuddering breaths. She turned towards the Queen rather than away from her and met Regina's eyes over her own shoulder. “Regina...” Another deep, labored breath. “...Are you going to drink from me now?”

 

The tips of Regina's fangs emerged from behind her lips. “Yes.”

 

Emma closed her eyes. Her hand curled into her own hair, sweeping golden locks to the side. She tilted her head to the side and offered unto her Queen in the early dawn her bared throat.

 

**FIN**

 


	19. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is the obligatory vampire sex scene.
> 
> You're welcome.

**Epilogue: Do It With Me Now**

 

Ivory fangs sank into soft skin. Slowly.

 

This was no emergency feeding to ward off death- no crazed strike of need as the scent of blood slipped into starving senses. This was her first true bite in centuries- punctures made by her own fangs and nothing else to get the blood begun, and Regina took her time with it. She reveled in it, putting all of her focus into how her hand lightly curled around the other side of Emma's neck, supporting her head. How her other arm snaked around her midriff, keeping her close. Everything else was concentrated on her fangs. They dipped into the skin in a single smooth motion, so very slowly. Regina paid attention to how each layer of skin felt as it was punctured, how the blood under that skin welled, just before she hit the vein, right before she could taste it. And then she sunk in the rest of the way with a groan, and drank deeply of Emma Swan.

 

As soon as the tips had broken skin, Emma's eyes fell closed, a small gasp escaping as fangs bit incrementally into her neck. It hurt at first, but only marginally- a pinprick before pain was overrun. It felt like a full thirty seconds until Regina finally punctured her jugular, and by that time, Emma's head was already rushing in sensation, her lips parting. A breathy groan slipped from her as the slight twinge of pain began to slide away into something far more exquisite. “Oh, Regina...”

 

The first rush of blood, hot and sweet and perfect, jolted into Regina's mouth and she gave a moan of her own, her arm curling around Emma's shoulders and holding her ever closer. A hand snaked up into blonde waves of hair that shone golden in the early dawn, and tangled into them. Emma thrummed into her, fresh blood mixing with the remains of what she had taken in the Hive, pulsing into her heart until the muscle quivered with new life, pounding beneath Regina's breast. As she took, she gave back of herself, sending her own desire and emotions through the channel between them, adding to Emma's pleasures and then tasting them in the blood in an endless cycle of joy and ecstasy.

 

Euphoria was already beginning to overwhelm Emma's senses, drowning her in all things Regina. She could feel the Queen's elevated heartbeat in her ears, could hear her blood thrumming in her veins, could practically taste her in every pore of her skin. Regina's sounds of approval echoed in her ears, and Emma felt heat washing over her skin, pooling low in her belly, and couldn't help but try to throw her head back and moan even louder.

 

Regina's hand in her hair kept her still, tightening its grip subtly as she drank. Emma's blood was as intoxicating as she remembered, and the sheer heat of it poured down her throat, warming its way through every inch of her body. And the warmth was not only in temperature. Drinking from Emma was like tasting joy itself- a bubble of all things good and wonderful and perfect that slid its way down into her. She could literally taste Emma's euphoria, and it was absolutely delicious.

 

The feeding lasted forever and yet could never take long enough. She did not take much blood at all, really. Barring occasions like being drained or poisoned, Regina was old enough that she did not generally require much in the way of blood. When Regina finally pulled away with a small moan of delight, her tongue darted once over the twin punctures she'd left behind, and gave a lingering kiss to marred skin. The marks were gone in a matter of seconds.

 

Lips parted, head still tilted, Emma's eyes fluttered slowly open. She groaned softly, her mind in a delirious haze. She took a moment to simply take in all that she was feeling, her head tipping forward to rest lightly on Regina's shoulder. Arms wrapped their way around her, a hand tenderly running its way through slightly tangled hair. “God... Regina,” she breathed, almost hesitantly sliding her own arm around the Queen.

 

Licking her lips of all final traces of Emma's blood, Regina expelled a small sigh of her own, smoothing out Emma's hair as she held her close, reveling in the feeling of hot, fresh blood coursing through her own veins, invigorating her body. Emma thrummed through her, overwhelming her still, cocooning her senses in a haze of desire and love and sheer life.

 

Their eyes met. Emma felt the rays on her back like a warm embrace; an old friend coming to say hello. The light shone off Regina's hair, her skin, making her look almost like she was glowing. Still pleasantly reeling with sensation, Emma felt her lips suddenly dry, and her tongue darted out almost shyly to wet them.

 

Regina watched that tongue with just as much hunger in her eyes as had been there before she drank, her lips parting to show the gleam of still-exposed fangs as she stared hungrily at Emma's lips.

 

Noting the interest with another small groan, Emma lost herself in her pleasure, and surged forward to crush Regina's lips against her own.

 

They came together in the early dawn, soft and gentle, with arms wrapping tenderly around one another and quiet moans as lips explored one another. The mutual desire was almost liquid, a warm bubble that wrapped and entwined itself into and around them in an endless cycle. Regina parted her lips and Emma darted her tongue inside, tasting her, drawing her arms around the Queen and pulling herself closer still, eliminating all space between them and slowly rolling her hips against those of the vampire.

 

Regina's hands curled around her shoulders, her fingertips sliding a path up her neck, caressing over both sides before sliding back down, nearly desperate to touch and feel every inch of the woman before her. Nails raked gently down the path of Emma's spine, drawing a low moan between their mouths as the kiss deepened further still.

 

Without thinking about it, Emma felt her own hands move along the same path, her palms reaching up to trace over Regina's neck and shoulders before heading down her back. Her tongue retreated from the warmth of Regina's, pausing to drag the tip lightly over the length of Regina's fangs before slipping back behind her own lips, inviting Regina to follow suit and explore her mouth. Emma's hands slid lower still, finally coming to rest just above the rounded swells of Regina's more than glorious ass.

 

Just as Emma was readying to go further still and finally cup what had tormented her for far too long beneath tight skirts and leather pants, Regina pulled away. She offered a small peck on the lips in apology, but tilted her head in the direction of the porch surrounding them. The open walkway leading to the house, outside where anyone could see them.

 

“Emma?” she breathed quietly with another small peck on the lips. “Let's go inside.”

 

Having completely forgotten their location, Emma blushed profusely, taking Regina's proffered hand and leading her back inside the house. The door shut behind them with a dull click, and Emma had to blink at the sudden darkness, her eyes maladjusted after the brightness of the sun outside. As soon as the darkness settled around them and the sun no longer touched her, she felt as though she were wilting, a great part of her missing. She let out a tiny whine of discomfort before trying to shrug it off and press another kiss to Regina's lips.

 

Regina shot her a concerned glance, before her face softened and she echoed the kiss, letting it linger for another long moment or two before regretfully pulling away. “Upstairs.” Her voice was nearly a full octave lower than normal.

 

Feeling her knees weaken at the sound of it, Emma bit back another groan. Keeping Regina's hand in her own, she led them up the winding staircase, down the hall past the open door to Henry's room. The two mothers took a moment to check in on their sleeping son, still blissfully dead to the world.

 

Smiling at the sight, it was Regina's turn to lead, and she pulled Emma flush against her before twisting the door to her own room open. The two spilled into the master bedroom, lips attached, hands wandering over warm curves and rumpled clothing. This time, it was Emma who pulled back as the door closed behind them, the reality of what they were doing seeming to dawn on her. “Regina?” she murmured against kiss-swollen lips, her hands finally settling to cup over the vampire's perfect rear end. “Are you sure? I mean... what are we doing?”

 

Regina smiled at her, and waved a hand in the direction of her shuttered, curtained windows. The solar screens lifted, the room-darkening shades rising to bathe the room in the light of the sun. “We're coming home.”

 

The light hit Emma squarely in the chest, and she groaned again, closing her eyes and basking in the warm rays. When her eyes opened again, they were glowing. With near-feverish force, she backed Regina against the door, crushing their lips together. But Emma was not content to remain still, and this time began to trail a strong of heated kisses down Regina's throat, pausing to suck at the joining of neck and shoulder. Right at the spot where Regina had bitten her.

 

Biting back a squeak of surprise as blunt teeth bit down in a passionate mimic of her own earlier bite, Regina's head fell back against the door, her fangs sliding into prominence of their own free will. Emma grew relentless, finding the taste of Regina's skin utterly irresistible, and pressed herself closer still, her hands curling around hips and pressing them both into the door with a moan as she nipped and kissed and bit.

 

Tossing her head, Regina raked her fingernails forcefully down Emma's back, snagging on the fabric of her shirt until seams popped under the pressure. In a sudden surge of vampiric strength and speed, she propelled herself off the door, forcing Emma back into the room and towards her bed.

 

In full light of the sun, Emma could have stopped her if she wished. Regina knew that, even if Emma did not. But Emma let herself be led, falling onto the bed with a whoosh of air as Regina stopped in front of her, pressing Emma's thighs open enough that she could slip between them before bending down for another kiss.

 

Emma reached up for Regina's shoulders, grasping fistfuls of her shirt as the kiss deepened yet again. Her hands finally slid up, toying at the first button of the blouse her Queen wore, worrying it open with thumb and forefinger before her hand slipped inside to caress soft skin.

 

Breaking the kiss with a groan, Regina's hands found the hem of Emma's shirt and began to lift it above her head with deliberate slowness, wrestling the fabric away from the waist of her jeans. As the shirt came away, the vampire sunk down to her knees between Emma's thighs, lowering her head to trace warm patterns over the newly-revealed skin with the tip of her tongue. Covering each shoulder with soft, passionate kisses, Regina made her way to Emma's neck, teasing over the skin she had bitten with gentle flicks of her tongue.

 

Head tilting back, Emma nevertheless continued her work on the buttons, finally sliding the last one free and allowing her hand to just graze the underside of Regina's breast. Her other hand slipped behind to find the clasp of the bra, undoing it with a quick flick of her fingers. Both blouse and bra were tugged away, falling to the floor in whispers of fabric. With Regina on her knees and topless before her, Emma paused to pull Regina away from her neck so she could get a proper look, raking her eyes over every inch of newly exposed skin. In the early morning sun, Regina was flawless. “You're so beautiful,” she whispered, almost reverently. Soft hands stroked over the slope of one breast, then slipped between to dance over Regina's cleavage before moving to the next one.

 

Regina preened a little at the compliment, arching her back and pressing her chest more fully into Emma's exploratory touches. “Oh, Emma,” she sighed. Her own hands moved to Emma's bra, deftly undoing the clasp and pulling the offending garment away, interrupting Emma's gentle explorations for a brief moment to take her own lingering look. “You put me to shame.” The sun was shining down on Emma's topless body, her skin practically glowing in its rays. Almost as if she were afraid to impose on the union of sunlight and Emma's skin, Regina extended her hands slowly, drawing the tips of her fingers just barely over sun-warmed flesh.

 

While the vampire grew hesitant, the phoenix grew bold, rushing her palms over Regina's nipples. Emma lightly began to circle them with her fingertips, tracing in ever tightening spirals until thumb met forefinger and tweaked sensitive flesh. Regina shuddered, pulling back as her nipples were pinched and rolled. Not content to let her pull away, Emma pressed forward to wrap her arms about Regina's waist, encouraging her back to her feet so she could suck one of the hardened buds between warm, wet lips. A gasp of surprise flew out of the vampire, and her back arced once again, pressing her skin into Emma's mouth as her hand wound into blonde hair. “Emma!”

 

She kissed and teased, brushing her tongue over the stiffened nub until it shone before finally, tortuously, bringing the nipple between her lips and sucking. Just when Regina felt she might burst at the feel of it all, Emma pulled away, trailing heated kisses across her cleavage, and began to follow the cycle all over again on the other nipple.

 

Groaning again, Regina tugged insistently on the hair in her hands, winding it around her fingers. It had been her intention to begin things here, to have Emma on her back beneath her while she brought her to new heights of pleasure and to hear her name falling from Emma's lips. But as Emma's mouth instead wrapped around her second nipple, tongue laving over her skin, Regina honestly could not say that she minded the change in plans. “You're... very good at this, dear,” she sighed, her eyes fluttering closed as another moan slipped from her.

 

Smiling into her breast, Emma slid her hands into the waistband of Regina's slacks, working her way around her hips before slipping low, squeezing the softness of her ass. She pulled back after a final kiss to each breast, smirking up at her writhing Queen. “Think so?” she grinned. “Then you're going to love this.” A twist of her fingers had Regina's slacks undone, Emma's fingers questing below, between supple thighs that were doused with wetness.

 

Regina responded with another surprised moan, her fingers tightening in blonde hair before her hands moved lower to steady herself by grasping firm shoulders. “Emma!” she groaned again, bending her trembling knees to allow greater access as she stood. With her slacks remaining around her thighs, it made the position difficult, so Regina fixed the problem with a wave of slightly wobbling fingers, removing the rest of her clothing in a puff of purple.

 

With another smirk of approval, Emma pressed a kiss to the slope of her Queen's hipbone. “Better,” she chuckled. Fingers began to slip down further still, tracing over newly-revealed skin and darting to trail her fingertips in glistening dampness, barely brushing over the pouting lips of Regina's sex.

  
Head thrown back, Regina's  hips began rocking forward and back, side to side, forcing those fingers to open her up further. Slowing her movements, she arched her back in such a way that pressure was suddenly positioned directly over her clit. With lust-filled dark eyes, she glanced down to lock with glittering green. Her fangs brushed over her lips as she plead, so far extended that she was lisping. "Emma, don't teathe me, pleathe. Pleathe... Emma..." Had she been more conscious of it, Regina would have cursed at herself for that. She hadn't had a fang-lisp in milennia.

 

Regina was attempting to control the pressure, now, grinding her wetness against fluttering fingers, dancing over her clit. Her hips were moving constantly, undulating inches away from Emma's face. With a smirk, Emma's other hand shot up between spread thighs, finding and dipping her fingers inside, just a little. Just to barely skim over the surface of wetness. Regina's movement slowed and she spread her legs further still, leaning her weight almost entirely on firm shoulders as Emma gently pushed upwards, fingers sinking into her until Regina was practically sitting on her palm. "Emma...!"

 

Both of her hands were busy now, one stroking Regina's clit, the other thrusting one, then two fingers in and out of her dripping sex. The Queen's movements became more sporadic, less controlled, as she bounced up and down on the fingers of one hand while never allowing her clit to lose contact with the fingers of the other. Emma watched in satisfaction as skin became flushed, Regina's fingers gripping her shoulders so tightly she knew they would bruise, and yet she couldn't care when Regina was looking do delectably undone, her breasts bouncing with every thrust.   
  
And as her moans built into a crescendo, Regina's entire body began to quiver as muscles tightened and strained. Her moans filled the room, her back arching her body taunt and stretched towards the ceiling. Emma could feel the muscles of her sex convulsing around her fingers, and redoubled her efforts, flicking her thumb madly over the Queen's stiffened clit. Regina was reaching her limit, her body trembling as the first waves of orgasmic pleasure began to crash. But Emma refused to slow, continuing to plunge deep within until Regina was trembling again, her fangs digging into her lips to keep from screaming. Finally, with a very loud shriek she could not contain, she collapsed on top of Emma, forcing her to lay back on the bed, hands tugging free to curl around her convulsing form.

 

Body damp with sweat and trembling as residual spasms wracked through her, Regina could barely even form Emma's name with her lips, curling up in her arms as her body still buzzed with pleasure. Finally, a peaceful sort of calm seemed to come over her, stretching herself up to place languid kisses along Emma's collarbone before finally reaching her lips once more.

 

Emma gave her own rumble of pleasure beneath her, a smirk on her lips as they kissed, ridiculously pleased with herself. Her tongue traced over Regina's lips, darting inside to taste the pleasured moans of her Queen.

 

Finally drawing back, Regina pulled away to lean on her elbows above the blonde, a contented smile on her face as she glanced down at Emma. “My turn,” she announced. Before Emma could respond, she re-situated her weight to her knees to straddle her waist, and almost nonchalantly began to trail the fingers of one hand over Emma's breasts.

 

A shiver wracked its way through Emma's core, and she gasped, her own hands curling around Regina's hips and squeezing with every teasing touch. A smirk seemingly permanently in place, Regina lowered her head and placed gentle, feather-light kisses to a rapidly hardening nipple. Emma groaned, her hips bucking unintentionally beneath her Queen, the button of her jeans raking over Regina's stomach.

 

As if reminded, one of Regina's hands slid low, darting beneath the waistband of the still-present garment. “I think it is long past time for these to go,” she purred, her lips brushing over the swollen peak of Emma's nipple with every word. She darted her tongue across it at the end of her sentence, leaning forward to suck on it powerfully as both hands slid the button of the jeans undone.

 

Arching her back, Emma could only thrash unhelpfully while Regina tugged at the tight denim, lips releasing her nipple with a pop before lowering her head to the other. As Regina's hands slid beneath jeans and panties alike, peeling them down together, her tongue swirled around Emma's nipple, her lips suckling at the nub until Emma was reduced to writhing beneath her. Hands rising to tangle in Regina's hair, Emma could only whimper and moan as the last barrier between them was finally stripped away, allowing their naked flesh to finally rub together.

 

Pulling away from her breasts with a farewell kiss to each nipple, Regina slid herself down the length of hot skin, settling between Emma's legs and finally pulling the restricting fabric free of her ankles to be thrown across the floor. With Emma at last naked beneath her, she paused to drink in the sight of her- flushed and quivering with need, back arched to throw her breasts with nipples sucked into prominence, her kiss-swollen lips parted and gasping with every breath. Pleased at the sight, with gentle prods she urged Emma to shift herself further onto the bed until golden hair spilled over her pillows. Once satisfied, Regina lightly raked her fingernails up and down over shaking thighs, silently spreading them further apart.

 

With every stroke of those fingernails, Emma threw her head further back against the pillows, her mind nearly overcome with need as she whimpered with every breath. “Please, Regina,” she gasped, echoing her Queen's earlier pleas.

 

Clucking her tongue soothingly, Regina finally brought her hands together at the junction of Emma's thighs, spreading her wider still until her obvious wetness glistened in the sunlight. “Mmm...” she purred at the sight, lowering her head and pressing a teasing kiss to Emma's stomach. “You're so wet for me, Emma Swan.” Tauntingly, she lowered her head ever-so-slightly, dragging both fangs and tongue alike over the bend of her hip.

 

“Regina...” Emma whined, unable to think of any other words with Regina's hands and lips so close to where she needed them. She felt a chuckle against her skin, the ends of dark hair brushing over her as Regina lowered her head further still. And then everything seemed to freeze. Emma couldn't even breathe, everything poised on the edges of her exposed nerve endings and waiting, until Regina finally pressed her lips to wet folds.

 

Regina's groan of pleasure overpowered Emma's own, the scent and taste of Emma's heat nearly as wonderful as that of her blood, and she dragged her tongue along wet inner thighs, eager to drink up every drop of that taste. With deliberate slowness, eager to enjoy herself, she pressed a kiss to each swollen lip, one side and then the other, and heard Emma's breath hitch beneath her with every motion. Her tongue dipped into the source of Emma's desire, slowly working from the base to the top of her slit. With her thumbs, she parted the folds she had just kissed, baring the swollen head of Emma's clit to the attentions of her lips and tongue, and just barely ran the tip of her tongue against the bud.

 

Hips bucked into a warm mouth as Emma nearly screamed at the first touch to her clit, causing one of Regina's hands to fly up and away, making a quick gesture resulting in a wave of purple blasting throughout the room. “Soundproofing spell,” Regina purred against her folds before Emma even had the presence of mind to ask, and then the Queen bent her head to Emma's clit once more.

 

Over and over she pressed careful, measured strokes of her tongue against the swelled bud of nerves, each lick causing another shudder to wrack its way down Emma's body. She tangled her hands in Regina's hair, desperate for more, gasping out her name as a skilled tongue swirled around and around her clit. Emma pressed her hips up, needing more, desperate to feel, to be utterly overcome and surrounded by Regina. She needed to fell her, all of her. “Regina!” she hissed, thrashing on the pillows. “Please, please...!”

 

“What do you need, Emma?” Regina purred from between her thighs.  
  


“You!” she gasped, sweat-slicked skin bucking against Regina's face as she tugged relentlessly on dark hair, trying to pull her up. “Regina, I need _you_ , please!”  
  
“You need _me_?” A chuckle echoed, interrupted by another measured lick to Emma's clit. “Far be it for me to deny you, then, dear.”

 

The bed shifted beneath them, Regina sliding up to spin herself until a thigh rested on either side of Emma's head, eliciting another long, low groan from the blonde's lips. “Oh god, yes...”

 

The soft feel of Regina's breasts brushing against her abdomen was a short-lived distraction from the sight above her. Directly in front of her face, Regina's sex nearly begged for attention, and Emma was floored by the obvious effect that simply pleasuring  _her_ had had on Regina. She was practically dripping with desire, the spread lips of her heat seemingly engorged with blood- Emma's blood- her brain supplied needlessly, actually working for a second before stuttering to a stop again as Regina's scent began to flood her senses. With an eagerness she didn't know she had the energy for, Emma surged up to press her lips to swollen flesh.

 

“Oh, Emma..!” Regina gasped above her, thighs shuddering around her face as she kissed and licked over every inch of Regina's sex, tasting her and loving every bit of it. As Emma wrapped her arms around spread thighs, Regina took a steadying breath before returning to her own ministrations, darting her tongue back over Emma's heat as Emma did the same. Their bodies rocked together in mutual pleasure, nipples rolling back and forth over sweaty skin as they licked and sucked.

 

Grinding her hips down until her wetness completely coated Emma's face, Regina slid against feverishly working lips and tongue over and over again. She moaned against Emma's heat, unable to stop herself from reveling in the attention, utterly consumed. Emma pulsed in her veins, lapped at her folds, thrust into her until Regina could not help but drown in her.

 

As if sensing the effect she was having, Emma doubled her efforts, her own need only growing as Regina continued to lap at her between moans. She swirled her tongue over Regina's clit, loving every rock of the Queen's hips above her, pressing Regina to her as close as she could before latching her lips around that clit and sucking on it as hard as she could.

 

Regina screamed into her sex, her body tensing and shaking as her orgasm swept through her, her body gushing and Emma surging up to greedily drink down every drop as Regina shook in her arms. But if Emma had expected Regina's own attentions to halt as she recovered, she was unduly surprised when hot lips and tongue attacked with renewed fervor.

 

Extended fangs barely grazing at her folds, Regina was relentless in the wake of her second orgasm, sucking Emma's clit into her mouth and lashing it over and over with her tongue, clutching Emma to her. She raised her eyes to lock onto those of the writhing blonde beneath her, pausing in her ministrations to speak, and punctuating her words with strong, sound licks against her clit. “I want you to come for me now, my dear. Come for your Queen, and let me drink in every. Single. Drop of you.”

 

With a scream of Regina's name on her lips, Emma's head fell back against the bed, Regina's words sending vibrations through her sex and adding a new layer to the overwhelming sensations that were rocking their way through her body. Emma felt herself on fire, as if the sun itself beat in her veins and pulsed through her heart. She was aware of everything and nothing, feeling as though every single nerve was exposed and vibrating with untold pleasure. Waves of need barreled through her unendingly, and she shook and trembled, unable to do anything but moan and scream as Regina sent her hurtling towards the edge. Tongues of fire licked at her skin, just as Regina licked inside her. Just as she felt herself at the tipping point, two long, questing fingers buried themselves in her sex, twisting and jerking inside. The noise that fell from parted lips was not human, more akin to a great screeching cry, and Emma stiffened, her hips bucking off the bed as her orgasm finally overcame her, sending wave after wave of unending pleasure crashing through her until she could barely remember to breathe.

 

Regina did not stop, did not even slow her attentions, drinking in every delicious drop of Emma's release, pistoning her fingers in and out of tight, spasming heat until Emma couldn't even screech any longer, all consciousness pushed harriedly to the side until Regina was all she knew, all she could fathom, and her name fell from breathless lips as she crashed over the edge over and over and over again, gold light spilling from her eyes and every fingertip until darkness overcame it, pulling her down with it.

 

When Emma opened her eyes again, she was laying on Regina's chest, fingers gently brushing through her hair. She gave a contented groan, her throat hoarse as she nuzzled up to press a tired kiss to the vampire's shoulder.

 

Regina chuckled beneath her, rubbing her other hand lightly down her shoulder. “Welcome back.” Her fingers danced over skin that nearly burned, tracing cooling patterns over chest and back alike.

 

“Mmm.” Emma could only grunt in reply, her voice gone rough and feeling foreign as she lay in her Queen's embrace. “God, Regina,” she gasped, snuggling closer into the vampire's chest. “...Will it always feel like that? You drinking from me?”

 

“Mmm,” Regina moaned quietly, closing her eyes and simply enjoying the feel of Emma and the sun and her blood. “I'd like it to.” Her eyes opened again, pulling back slightly to look down at the woman in her arms. “If you'll let me.”

 

Emma blinked, staring back at Regina with confused eyes that were slowly losing their glossy, hazed look. “Let you what? Drink from me?” She smiled, nuzzling into the vampire's neck and pressing a gentle kiss to its bend. “I thought that was a given.”

 

Pulling back with a suddenness that left Emma feeling bereft, Regina looked at her as if the idea was appalling. “I would never presume to think that something so precious would ever just be 'a given,' Emma.”

 

Emma couldn't help but crack a smile. “Did you just call me 'precious'?”

 

Scoffing, Regina's eyes narrowed. “Trust you to make light about something so serious, Miss Swan.”

 

“Are we really already back to 'Miss Swan'?” Smirking, Emma caught one of Regina's hands in her own, locking eyes with the Queen. “Regina,” she said in all seriousness, the warm glaze of mindblowing sex slowly falling away from her voice as she spoke. “I won't pretend that the thought of being drank from used to terrify me. The night that Henry was born...” her voice faltered, a hand almost subconsciously reaching for the eight-year old scar on her neck. The side Regina had not drank from. “When Gold bit me ...It was the worst night of my life- complete and utter hell. And it shaped me into the Hunter I became.”

 

Regina shook her head. “I don't want to-”

 

“Let me say this, okay?” Squeezing the Queen's hand affectionately, Emma pressed on. “Regina, when you drink from me, it is _nothing_ like that night. That night was all terror and pain and tears and blood. Not like with you. With you... I don't even think about it at all. I feel warm. And... safe. And I meant what I said back in that damn Hive, Regina. I trust you. And I want you to know that you can drink from me any time you need to. Hell,” she smiled, her arms lifting up lethargically to wrap lightly around Regina “any time you _want_ to. Because Regina? When you drink from me? I... actually really, really like how it feels.”

 

Regina's slow, affectionate smile rivaled the light of the sun they lay in. She let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. Emma's words warmed her body as much as the blood pulsing through her did. As much as her arms around her. Her eyes darted towards Emma's arms as they encircled her, and Regina shuffled almost awkwardly into the hug, if that was what it was. “Oh, you do, do you?” she chuckled affectionately. “And why is that?”

 

Emma's face flushed, instantly stammering. “...Because I... it feels... it's...”

 

“Intimate?” The Queen's prompt was all too eager-sounding, calling back to her own description what seemed like ages ago.

 

Pulling back a little, but not far enough so that Regina was completely out of her arms, she grumbled, “Fine. Yes, you were right, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?”

 

Eyes glittering, Regina seemed to consider before answering. “It will do. For now.”

 

They fell into an easy silence. Broken a few moments later, inexplicably, when Emma began to laugh.

 

Shooting a questioning look at her, Regina could only wait until Emma's mirth died down to a point where she could form words.

 

“Did you know, your majesty,” Emma began with a breathless smirk, “that seventy-nine percent of all those Claimed begin developing sexual feelings towards their Claimers?”

 

A bark of laughter replaced confused irritation. Regina smirked. “Mmm.. Then it's a good thing you're not Claimed, dear,” she purred softly, running her fingers over the sweat-slicked skin of Emma's stomach, and then lower, over her thighs. “I'd hate for you to become just another statistic.”

 

“Heaven forbid,” Emma groaned, arching her back and spreading her legs a little more.

 

Regina's lips split in a slow, devious little smile. “Emma....” She raked the backs of her fingernails lightly over the smooth skin of an inner thigh, causing Emma to hiss as raised lines formed in their wake. Bringing the blood to the surface of the skin. Dark eyes looked up to lock with green. “...You did say I could drink from you whenever I wanted?”

 

The hitch of the vampire's voice alone made Emma groan, her back arching again as she stared down into eyes so dark they nearly devoured her, and begged Regina to consume her all over again. “God, Regina, yes,” she moaned. “Do it.”

 

There were still issues to be discussed, of course. Other, less enjoyable problems. Regina would have to research what, exactly, Emma was. She knew the name, of course, and a number of Emma's abilities had shown themselves already, but more would need to be learned. And Regina also now knew that Storybrooke had become entirely too isolated from the rest of the world, if Cora had so easily been able to create her Hive so close. Something would have to be done about that, too.

 

But those were concerns for a later time. Now, Regina fully intended to revel in the moment with her Emma. And with another grin, the Queen lowered her head once more to sink her fangs into the corded flesh of the blonde's inner thigh.

 

Arching her back again, Emma sighed as Regina once more took over her senses, curling her hands into dark hair, and pressed the vampire's fangs even more firmly into her vein.

* * *

 

 

Later, when exhaustion finally overtook their renewed passion, the two curled their spent bodies into one another, utterly content.

 

In the embrace of her Queen, Emma did not dream.

 

**FIN**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End! (for real) I finally finished cross-posting this story! Huzzah! The sequel is in the works, though will likely not be finished for a good while.
> 
> My undying thanks to everyone who has enjoyed this story, and stopped to let me know, be it by favoriting, kudo-ing or stopping to leave me a line. Your enthusiasm keeps me writing when i want to tear my hair out, so thanks for that.
> 
> And my forever-gratitude to my extremely patient beta, Luthor. If you haven't read her stories, go do it.
> 
> Thank you all, and I hope you've enjoyed this story. I certainly loved writing it, and this recent round of re-editing has been fun.  
> ~M


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